


Never Have I Ever

by JunoNotFound, trivialtrash



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baker GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Baking, Complete, Cooking, Couch Cuddles, Flirting, Fluff, Gay GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Happy Ending, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, M/M, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings, Movie Night, Mutual Pining, No Smut, Questioning Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Relationship Baggage, Sapnap is doing his best, Sexuality Crisis, Sleepy Cuddles, Slow Burn, Texting, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 50,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29373669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JunoNotFound/pseuds/JunoNotFound, https://archiveofourown.org/users/trivialtrash/pseuds/trivialtrash
Summary: George isn't looking for love, yet he considers himself a good friend. This is how he finds himself lost in the middle of a community center looking for a Single's Baking Class he doesn't want to attend.Dream isn't looking for love either, but he considers himself to have awful friends when the sole reason he came to the dumb class in the first place vanishes on him. Really, he'll strangle him later for his lame attempts to wing-man, but in the meantime there are brownies to be made and zero clue how to make them.Thankfully, it seems like the brunet he happened to get as a table partner seems to have a clue what he's doing.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap - Past, Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch - Implied
Comments: 116
Kudos: 389





	1. Never Have I Ever Attended a Single’s Class Trying to Walk Out With No Date

**Author's Note:**

> Oh. My. God. It's finally done. This work has been in progress since mid-November of last year and Juno and I are just so tired of these gay disasters but we are proud to present the accumulation of our suffering and work over the past four months and bring you a lovely multi-chap dnf fic! 
> 
> This fic is complete but will be uploaded regularly to allow me and Juno to edit and proofread before giving it to you guys.

George groaned as he pushed open the double glass doors to step into the bright pink interior of the building. The whole thing was a bit much in his opinion. Even though he had "voluntarily" signed up for this at the request of his friend Bad, claiming that he was too nervous to teach the class with his boyfriend of almost 3 years alone. 

Alone, his ass. He had Skeppy to help. Well, help might be debatable, but Bad certainly wasn't alone. He walked down the perfumed hallways of the lively community center, trying to find the door that Bad claimed would "be obvious right away". He groaned again as he, yet again failed to find the room. He had initially said yes because he heard "baking class" but then, looking closer at the link Bad had sent, he realized it was a Singles Baking Class™️ And yes, he might be single, but he wasn't looking to change that. At all. So here he was, pacing the halls of some foreign building because he liked to think of himself as a good friend. That, and the free baking supplies were a bonus. 

As Dream stared at the doors that let to that stupid baking class, he finally realized what he was getting himself into. He probably should've expected something like this to happen; owing Sapnap was a curse that could only end in disaster. Still, nothing could have prepared him for when his friend told him that, to pay back his debt, he'd have to go to a Singles Baking Class with him, at least for three sessions. Dream fully intended to live up to that, and never return after the third. Nonetheless, he pushed those damn doors open and began to wander the halls in search of the room where the class was being hosted. 

George rounded a corner, distracted by staring at a door that's contents were so bizarre he didn't even know what he was looking at. Then he crashed into someone. The someone he ran into let out a weak oof as he stumbled backwards. It was then that he managed to get a good look at the someone. He was tall, with fluffy blond hair and a light dusting of freckles across tanned skin, much unlike his own. If he weren't on such a vendetta to stay single, he might even consider the stranger cute. Alas, he had a baking class to sit through alone. With an apologetic look, he waved and took off down the hallway, shouting "Sorry!"

Dream was left in a stunned silence as the attractive stranger darted down the hallway, giving him no time to respond. He gave a delayed wave, though the boy had long since left by the time he'd managed it. He decided that, if everyone here was that cute, maybe this baking class wouldn't be so bad. Part of him hoped the boy would be in that class too, though he didn't know why.

He then continued his search for the class. managing to get lost once before he finally located the room. Sapnap was waiting outside, staring at his phone as if he’d been waiting for a text. “Hey, why'd you have to pick a damn maze for this?” Dream complained as he approached the smaller, appreciating the relieved smile he received.

“I didn't know it'd be so difficult to find the room beforehand. But it'll be worth it, I swear. I just need you to wingman for me, okay? I’ll help you get through the baking,” Sapnap assured, adding, “I’m just gonna go use the bathroom real quick. You go in, don't wait for me.”

Dream gave a skeptical glare at the smaller before walking in, feeling a small rush of anxiety at the sight of all the “single and ready to mingle” people. He was comfortable with being single, and certainly didn't want to get a girlfriend through his lack of baking skills. Nonetheless, he picked a station that looked fitting for two people, hoping Sapnap would return soon and help him out.

A quiet buzz came from his phone, signaling a text. He opened the message and ready it with a deep, disappointed frown. 

_ 'Sorry, gtg help my sister with something. See you at the next class!'  _

The message from Sapnap read. He probably should've expected this; Sapnap had been insisting on him getting a date recently. Still, this was a trap he hadn't seen coming, and now he was trapped until this baking hell was over. “Fucker,” He whispered under his breath as he put his phone away.

Once Dream had settled into his station, a strawberry blond man at the front of the room facing all the stations cleared his throat nervously. His voice cracked as he called out, "We'll be starting in about five minutes so make sure you have a partner at your station by then. This, uh, won't be your permanent partner so don't feel like this is the biggest decision of your life." 

The dark fluffy haired man beside him stifled a laugh and a glare was shot in giggling assistant's direction. "Anyway, just go find someone!" The people mingled, the room full of motion as they stopped standing around and took seats at the various stations, though none of them filled the seat next to Dream. 

Time slowly ticked by and the empty seat beside him remained that way. After an eternity and a couple of nervous glances towards the door from the man who made the announcement earlier, he finally cleared his throat again, this time clapping his hands. 

"Alright, now that everyone's settled-" he was interrupted before he could say any more by the door bursting open. 

Geoege stood there one hand on the door as he breathed heavily. He quickly regained his composure and entered the room. A few people gave small laughs. Some first impression he had made to a room full of single people looking for love. As he walked in, the man's face up front lit up. 

"George!" He shouted happily, as if forgetting the room full of people he was supposed to be teaching soon. "I'm glad you could make it, just grab an empty seat and we'll start."

George's heart sank in dread as he looked around the room. The only free seat left was next to a suspiciously familiar looking stranger. Shamefully, he made his way towards Dream, giving a sheepish wave and taking a seat on the edge of the stool, like if he sat too close Dream would snap and bite him. 

Now that everyone had a partner, and his friend had finally arrived the man up front continued once more. "My name is Darryl, but you guys can call me Bad! I'll be teaching you guys some fun romantic recipes with my lovely assistant here Skeppy. Say hi, Skeppy!" Bad said cheerily.

“Hi, Skeppy,” Skeppy responded sarcastically, cracking a lazy grin at the groans and chuckles he received. He let out a chuckle of his own, glancing over at Bad to catch a (hopefully) annoyed expression. 

Dream let out a sigh of relief as the stranger he'd previously bumped into sat beside him instead of leaving him to suffer alone. With a timid wave, he whispered out a simple little, “Hi.”

George flinched at the tiny whisper. He looked around to check if the  handsome stranger was in fact talking to him, as if not expecting a sign of friendliness. 

Really, instead he expected to be pummeled by the initially intimidating nature of the  super attractive tall guy, or at the very least admonished for rushing off so rudely. Yet here he was, being nice to an asshole like him. He felt a tiny quiver in his heart. He told it to fuck off. He gave a tiny smile back to the man and whispered a small "Hello." back. 

At this point he was acutely aware that his accent was probably audible in his intonation, but he had more pressing things to worry about. Like keeping the attractive- okay fine, he admitted it, maybe the guy was his type, but that only gave more reason to try and keep his new baking buddy at arm's length. He didn't really want to hurt the man by giving him false hope by sitting here.

Dream cracked a wide smile, initially not expecting any answer from the boy that had previously fled from him. The accent had certainly caught him off guard, but he’d be lying if he said that it didn’t intrigue him. Glancing back at the other bakers around them, Dream tried to imagine who the boy would end up with. Cute, timid, and British? He’d definitely be a catch for someone here. 

“Today, you are going to be making- uh-” Skeppy began, glancing at the opened page of a cookbook to figure out what they were supposed to make, “brownies! It’s fairly simple, even a beginner can’t fuck that up. I think.”

"Language, you muffinhead!" Was the almost immediate response from Bad the second Skeppy shut his mouth. He turned back to the class and put a smile back on his face. 

"We printed out the recipe for you guys so there should be one copy on each table and brownies aren't  _ that _ difficult, but if you need help just feel free to approach us and- Hey! Skeppy! Put that down! Wait, wait wait wait, what do you think you're doing with that- OH MY GOSH, SKEPPY, NO!" And just as suddenly as the intro had begun, it was over, as Bad rushed away from his authoritative spot in the front to go stop what looked like Skeppy about to dump an entire package of flour over his workstation. It appeared that that was the definitive end of the introduction as Bad didn't return after several moments and the yelling that came from their work station only got louder. The other people in the class seemed to get the memo as they started chatting with one another and reading over the recipes to try their hand at making brownies. George chuckled as he watched Bad rush off to deal with his boyfriend. The two had spent many late night calls gushing about crushes and relationships and he was happy that at least one of them could have a stable loving relationship. With a happy afterglow, he turned to the recipe and the man he'd be working with. "My name's George, by the way." He grinned nervously as he distractedly thumbed through the recipe. "Sorry about the hallway thing, I was trying to find this dumb place... Even though I ended up late anyway," He finished lamely.

Dream laughed and shook his head dismissively. “Nah, no need to apologize. I was just as lost as you were, though I had a friend giving me directions. Honestly, he’s the only reason I even found this room. Though he totally bailed on me, the bastard,” Dream rambled, glancing over at the directions. Dread set in as he realized he had no clue what any of that meant. Look - he was an  _ amazing _ cook. But baking? He’d rather try to learn an entire new coding language than even touch cake batter. Yet here he was, stuck by a total stranger who was probably looking for a new girlfriend or boyfriend, with the sole goal of baking brownies. 

“Oh- I’m Dream, by the way. Um, not to be rude, but I’m kinda only here to third wheel for my absent friend, so if you’re looking for a date then I’m not gonna be much help. God that sounds like the dumbest excuse but I swear it’s true,” He added quickly, wanting to get the most potentially awkward part out of the way before it was too late.

George let out a sigh of relief he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Really?" He said with a wide smile. "That's such a relief to hear actually. I'm gay but I'm only here because I'm friends with the idiot over there currently trying to wrestle the eggs away from his boyfriend without breaking them-" a sickening series of crunches came from the front of the class, followed by a wail of horror. "SKEEPPPY!!!" 

"...Yeah, he said he didn't want to be alone while teaching the class but somehow I don't think he's feeling too lonely." He put down the recipe, and began to gather the ingredients in an orderly fashion. "The guy you came with sounds like a real jerk, though." George laughed as he poured water into a metal bowl. It seemed as though he was planning to do everything, or maybe just make his own brownie entirely.

“Eh, he means well. He’s, like, my best friend, but he thinks that my love life is his to get involved in,” Dream explained as he stared cluelessly at the ingredients. He glanced back and forth between the recipes and the ingredients, before softly murmuring to himself, “What the fuck?” 

He began to attempt to follow the recipe, frowning as it almost instantly failed. Hard. The pan was far too greased, the mixture was definitely the wrong color, and he was beginning to wonder if he forgot an egg.

George stared over in concern as he mixed his own batter, rich and thick, inside of a metal bowl cradled in his arms. He was hesitant to intervene but the travesty Dream was creating was honestly a little embarrassing. And the other man wasn't here for love, just like him... He set down his own bowl with a chuckle and stepped closer, peering into the bowl containing the strangely gooey liquid. He gazed up at Dream with an amused smile. "Do you need help there?"

Dream let out a small laugh, nodding in response to the question. “Oh god yes, I’m the world’s worst baker. I’m so confused, the only thing I know about brownies is that they taste good,” He joked, feeling somewhat embarrassed of his disastrous attempt at baking. He was glad his partner seemed to know what he was doing at least, since he was very clearly in desperate need of assistance.

As he started fixing the batter, adding more of the flour and cocoa powders he couldn't help but giggle. "How did you even get it this runny? I'm almost impressed." He teased lightly, still a little uncertain how far he could push this stranger or how he would react. He didn't know anything, but slowly he found himself wanting to know more. Even if that "more" was simply how he fucked up a brownie so miraculously.

“I genuinely have no idea. I swear I can cook, but giving me access to baking recipes is humanity’s second biggest mistake. The first being Discord light mode, of course,” Dream responded, backing off slightly to let George fix whatever mess he'd managed to make.

"Well as much as a disgrace light mode in Discord is, cooking and baking is pretty different. I'm kind of a crappy chef myself, but I work at a bakery, and it's hard." He smiled up at Dream as he mixed the battery into a nice rich thick brown color that matched his own. "So don't beat yourself up!" he handed the bowl back and wiped off Dream's pan a little to clear excess grease.

“Well, in that case, how about you come over for lunch some time? I’ll cook something for us to prove I’m not completely incompetent in the kitchen. It won’t be a date - I’m pretty sure I’m straight - just a hang out and a way for me to regain a bit of pride,” Dream suggested, beaming at the sight of his rescued batter.

George tried to stop any sort of acceleration his heart might be experiencing. He was not here to date. Not here to love. Especially not probably straight guys. Probably straight guys who were just his type- 

"Uh yeah, sure. I guess. Free food is always a plus, right? Especially if it helps recover your "pride"." He rolled his eyes at the end with a chuckle and air quotes. 

He poured his own batter into his pan and watched Dream do his, watching as he only poured in about half before stopping, leaving the pan underfilled and prone to burning just because the rest of the batter stuck to the sides. "Make sure you get the stuff on the sides, by the way. You don't have nearly enough in there to get good, unburnt brownies." 

He watched as Dream, poorly, attempted to scrape the edges. He looked on in pity. George watched him struggle for about twenty seconds before stepping in and resting a tentative hand on his. "How about I guide you?" George offered with a nervous smile.

Dream laughed, feeling his cheeks warm in embarrassment over his constant failures. “I’m so sorry man, I swear I’m not usually this helpless. And yeah, if you could guide me then that’d be great,” He apologized with a sheepish grin, glancing over at George’s probably perfect brownies with slight envy. “Man, I gotta stop by the bakery you work at sometime. Maybe I could even bring my “jerk best friend” that bailed on me today, since he used to go to bakeries all of the time,” He half-joked.

Uncertain from the lack of definitive answer, George moved in haltered, miniscule movements from the contact. He decided to try and continue the conversation to distract both himself and Dream from the slow methodical action. 

"Uh, yeah, we'd love the patronage. It's actually Bad's place so we have a great gluten free section!" He cursed himself, he really couldn't have thought of something more interesting? 

He tried again, "And we serve everyone, even "jerk best friends". Maybe after you guys visit he'll feel more willing to come with you to this thing."

When he finished, he quickly stepped back, as if burned from the touch, in a way he was. A pleasant warmth all over his body that made him feel happy. God, he really had to get a grip. He was just helping this guy that was basically a stranger.

“You'd even serve him? Well, in that case, I’ll be sure to drag his ass over to check it out, gluten-free section and all,” Dream teased, not giving much thought to George’s apparent nervousness. He then turned his attention to his somehow saved brownies, questioning, “Do you think they’re oven-ready?”

George gave them a quick glance over and nodded. "As long as we don't get distracted they should come out perfect." He grabbed the tin and walked towards the front of the room where the makeshift ovens had been brought in. 

Bad greeted them with a strained smile as they approached. "George!!" He greeted in relief. "I'm so glad you came up here, Skeppy is being a menace..." Bad trailed off as his eyes fell on Dream holding the brownie pan, trailing slightly behind. He looked to George with a questioning smile that bordered on that friendly sort of " _ Oho? Who's the hot stuff you brought with you? _ ", thankfully having the grace and tact  _ not _ to say that, Bad smiled more innocently at Dream and held out a hand. "Hello, I'm Bad. And you are...?"

“Dream, it’s nice to meet you,” Dream introduced, grasping Bad’s hand for a firm handshake. He flashed a friendly smile, wanting to make a good impression on his new friend’s boss. In the back of his mind, he was praying that no one besides George had witnessed his terrible brownie disaster, although he was fairly certain that Bad had been preoccupied saving his own brownies from his partner.

"A pleasure, for sure!!" Bad exclaimed, maybe a little too excitedly. "So, have you and George been hitting it off?" Bad's tone was more suggestive this time, wiggling his eyebrows as George straightened suddenly from putting the brownies into the oven. George was glaring daggers at him. "Bad!" He half hissed, mortified but thankful he wasn't blushing. Why would he be? There was no reason to.

Dream let out an embarrassed laugh at the question. “I mean, yeah, as friends. Funnily enough, neither of us really came here with the intention to date. My buddy bailed on me, but I came here to wingman for him as a favor.”

"George, you didn't come here to date??" Bad chastised, clearly disappointed and George fixed him with the driest look he could muster. "No Bad, I came because I'm a good friend and you asked me to." Bad sighed and peeked into the oven to look at the brownies.

"That's fair... I guess you wouldn't be ready after-" George interrupted him from saying anything more with a half annoyed groan. "Bad." 

"Oops! Sorry, right. 'He who must not be named'. Well," he stood and looked at both Dream and George with a smile, "your brownies are looking good!" A loud crash came off from another corner of the room and Bad paled. "I told that muffinhead to help... not burn down the kitchen!!" And without another word, he rushed off.

Dream watched the other rush off, contemplating his next words. “Sooo…. what do we do while we wait?” Dream questioned with a goofy grin, leaning against a counter. They’d likely have a while to talk, though he had no clue what to really talk about. All he knew about this stranger was that he: could bake, was a presumably terrible cook, had an ex comparable to Voldemort, and agreed that Discord light mode was the epitome of absolute sin.

George let out a thoughtful hum as he leaned back against a cool part of the oven. His face lit up as he thought of something. "How about a little game of Never Have I Ever?" He proposed. "It's a good way to get to know each other and pretty fun."

“Oh hell yeah, I’m down. Who goes first?” Dream questioned, already holding his fingers up in preparation. His goofy grin had almost instantly turned into a competitive smirk, and there was a determined glint in his eyes. No matter what game he played, he was always determined to win. 

George was simultaneously intimidated and entranced by the look in the other man's eyes. This would be fun, he could tell. He held up a palm with outstretched fingers, wiggling them playfully. "First from 5 to hit 0 loses?" He challenged.

Dream let out a chuckle, wiggling his fingers in response. “Oh, you’re  _ so _ on,” He fired back confidently, standing up slightly. It was ridiculous to get competitive over such a simple game, but he couldn’t help it.

George smirked, lowering an eyebrow as he decided to take a low blow. "Never have I ever kissed a girl." He said cheekily.

Dream huffed, lowering his finger with a scowl. However, a quick grin spread across his lips as he retaliated, “Never have I ever made out with a guy.”

George rolled his eyes and lowered a finger. "Touché." He considered his next statement carefully. "Never have I ever always lived in Florida...?" He ended with a lilt of his voice, curious to see the outcome and reaction from Dream.

“Oh, come on now,” Dream grumbled, lowering his finger. As he contemplated his next question, he let out a thoughtful hum. “Never have I ever lived somewhere in Europe? Like… England?” He said, mentally praying that he wasn’t guessing the wrong country.

He smiled, somewhat impressed as he lowered a finger. "Glad you didn't say something stupid like New Zealand. Still a pretty unoriginal jab." He snuck a peek at the brownies to make sure they weren't burning as he considered his next attack. He looked back to Dream with a smile once he made sure their creations weren't on fire. "Never have I ever been able to speak another language."

“Hm.. does, like, one year of crappy highschool French count? Je suis un idiot, though. I could hardly get through the first year, although my friends are somewhat to blame for that,” He rambled, followed by a snicker.

"No... I guess it doesn't." George lamented. "Join me in sad monolingual-ness. At least it sounds like good times were had in French, though."

“Oh man, I’ve got so many stories. Poor teacher must’ve hated us though,” Dream reminisced, before returning his attention to the competition at hand. “Alright, I’m gonna try a totally random one here. Never have I ever done karaoke.”

"Ooh, very original. And close but no cigar." George kept his fingers up with a shrug. "What can I say? Group outings aren't my speed. Don't worry, I'll get you back. Hmm how about... never have I ever played hooky from highschool."

Dream put his finger down, though he did so with a prideful huff. “School was boring, my friends aren’t. Simple as that. Never have I ever regifted a gift.”

George rolled his eyes as he lowered a finger. "C'mon that's so boring." He waggled his eyebrows with a sly grin. "Never have I ever had to do the walk of shame."

“Oh god,” Dream let out a hard laugh, followed by a coughy-wheeze. However, he lowered his finger in response to the question. “You haven’t? Really?” He questioned in disbelief.

He merely grinned with pride. "I might have had one night stands but that doesn't mean I just sneak out in the middle of the night, I'm trying to prove chivalry isn't dead. And in college they would come to my place since I lived alone." He smirked. "So no, really. I haven't."

“Well, maybe I’m being chivalrous by not making my partner come to my place. And if that’s how we’re playing this, then fine. Never have I ever been in hand-cuffs. For any reason.”

George flushed a brilliant shade of red as he quickly glanced away and lowered a finger with a cough. "I-I'm not a criminal... I just know what I like. A-anyway!" He willed the blush to go away, hoping his face didn't look as on fire as it felt. Sure, he had opened the can of worms with the walk of shame question, but he hadn’t Dream to retaliate so well. "Never have I ever burnt a cake!"

A confident, mischievous smirk spread across Dream’s lips as he lowered his finger. He got off of the counter he’d been leaning on, walking over to George. He stood right in front of the smaller, leaning down slightly and reaching up. He grabbed his chin gently, tilting the boy’s head up and whispering, “Yeah, you know what you like? Well then what do you think of this?”

Willpower meant nothing as the fire came rushing back through George at the physical contact. He'd be lying if he had to say it didn't feel  _ really damn good. _ His eyes widened as his gaze was forced upwards to stare into those greenish brown eyes, or what he assumed was green anyway. The irises were too light to be brown and yellow eyes didn't make much sense. Unless Dream was a demon. That would certainly explain the heat that escaped his fingertips and raced across his skin in such a pleasant way. He finally forced himself to speak after spending what seemed like a decade drinking in the sensations. He was pretty sure that if he wasn't colorblind he'd be able to tell each and every one of the 1000 shades of pink and red he was turning. "T-think of what...?" he croaked in a shaky whisper.

Dream let out a soft chuckle, though it was much deeper and hinted towards other intentions than his previous light-hearted laughter. “ _ This, _ silly. You, melting in my left hand, while my right hand-” He paused briefly, glancing at the mentioned limb for a moment before using it to grab George’s left hand, “- is keeping yours nice and warm. Isn’t that considerate? Afterall, I’d hate to see you alone and cold when I’m right here to keep you company.” 

It was intended as a joke, Dream was certain of that. But when he stared at the boy who was practically short-circuiting in his hands, he couldn’t ignore the wild beating of his heart. There was something so satisfying about this, so…  _ right. _ But as the oven timer beeped to remind them their brownies were done, he pulled away with another deep chuckle. 

“Oh, it’s my turn, isn’t it? Heh, never have I ever had a gay panic over a cute blond guy that I just met.”

George felt a flurry of emotions, while his body tingled in the aftermath of Dream’s touch. Embarrassment. Adoration of the touch. Heat. Anger. Confusion. Definitely gay panic. His chest and face burned, but his hand felt soft and warm. "I- You-" Words failed him as he took a moment to put himself back together. He didn't even bother putting down a finger as he glared, instead just putting down his hands altogether to save their desserts. "W-what sort of cheap shot is that?" He nearly yelled, eyebrows finally furrowing as his brain rebooted. He huffed, and turned his attention back to the brownies, ignoring their little game and especially ignoring giving him the satisfaction of admitting he won. He got to work with the brownies, giving himself a menial task to focus on instead of the infuriatingly and increasingly attractive blond.

“All’s fair in love and war, Georgie,” Dream explained with a cocky grin, feeling the joy of victory course through him. He decided to focus on that instead of the rising heat in his cheeks and the confusion that came with it. Glancing past George at the brownies, he felt rather proud that a dish he’d touched somehow hadn’t burst into flames.

When pulled out of the oven they really did look delicious. The delicious scent of the chocolatey goodness wafted throughout the room, causing a few nearby heads to turn. It seemed that despite all their banter and conversation, they were the first ones done. George brought them over to their station proudly, where Bad greeted them. "Those look awesome you guys!" His smile was wide and endearing, genuinely happy that they had created something and that the class was, in his eyes, a success. It may have helped that he saw his friend turning bright red a few seconds ago. Bad turned to Dream, asking "So do you think you've got a hang of the art of baking now?"

Dream tilted his head, biting his lip as he gave thought into his answer. “Hm… not quite yet, but I think I’ve got a good partner to teach me!” He exclaimed, glancing over at George with a fond smile. “Well, that is - if he’d like to partner up again next time?” The question, although not asked directly to him, was clearly directed towards George.

George scoffed, partially in trying to get over the moment from earlier and partially genuine. "Of course, I get the feeling that without my you'd be having burnt brownie pudding. Can't have you stinking up the classroom with toxic fumes and such next time. That.  _ And _ we definitely need a rematch on that Never Have I Ever, I think you won through illegal means." Bad peaked an eyebrow. "Illegal means?" he echoed in interest. George cursed internally. "Nothing, don't worry about it. Of course I'll be your partner next time. Unless Jerk Best Friend has the audacity to try and partner with you after ditching you."

“Well, “Jerk Best Friend” isn’t anywhere near as fun to play Never Have I Ever with - even if I have  _ slightly unfair tactics _ . But you’re right, I need someone to save my burnt brownie pudding, and I can’t think of a better savior than you,” Dream teased. A quick, comfortable silence fell over the two, before a sudden realization dawned over Dream. “Oh, crap- I totally forgot to get your number. Y’know, for the lunch I talked about. Mind putting it in real quick?” He asked hurriedly as he unlocked his iPhone, opening the phone app before handing it to George.

"Yeah, sure." George inputted his number, writing "Major League Baker" as the title before returning it. "Just in case you forget who it was." he explained with a grin. 

Class ended shortly after, with other people finishing their brownies, none quite as yummy looking as Dream and George's. Bad gave a closing speech, talked about other offers the community center had, then gave little bags for everyone to put the leftover brownies in (of which there were quite a few) to give away to friends or family or to simply save for later. George gave a short parting bye to Dream and waved bye to Bad who seemed to be on the brink of tears from some new disastrous mess Skeppy had managed to create before everyone had left. George hurriedly left before Bad could stop him and beg for help. He was a good friend, but he wasn't  _ that _ good of a friend.

Taking the bus home, he waited to see if Dream had texted him anything, a little dismayed when he saw nothing. He decided to shoot Bad a few texts instead. They conversed on his ride home, Bad interrogating him about Dream and George skillfully deflecting by changing the topic back to Bad and how his class went, as well as future specials for the bakery or if this helped business at all. After getting to a particularly dry patch of conversation, as well as his stop, his phone buzzed with an unknown number. He tapped on it, eager to read the message he hoped was from a certain blond.


	2. Never Have I Ever Texted the Cute Boy I Met in a Single’s Baking Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream and George finally text.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter chapter, this is really just a little filler and more relationship building before the anticipated "lunch" "date" :] I'd advise having work skin on for this to be most effective!

Major League Baker  
  
Hey, is this George? :)  
  


The message was relatively simple, but even long after Dream had driven himself home, he’d barely gathered the courage to send it. He’d typed and deleted that simple emoticon a million times, wondering if it’d be seen as nice and friendly or awkward and a total mistake.

He wasn’t quite sure what was fueling his anxiety so bad, but by the time he hit send, he was ready to toss his phone across the room.

Major League Baker  
  
no  
  
This is Major League Baker  
  
smh cant u read  
Nah, I can't read. Can't believe you're bullying me over such a sensitive issue smh  
  


He stifled a small laugh as he changed the contact name to George.

George  
  
Wow who knew good looking guys could be illiterate  
  
Guess you had to have a flaw somewhere  
  
Nobody's THAT perfect  
  
Oh? Pretty sure my one flaw is my inability to bake without giving all witness food poisoning lmao.  
  


Dream's next message took a while, appearing to have been deleted and rewritten a hundred times before it was finally sent.

Guess that means together we're a perfect duo, yeah?  
  
Hmmm idk  
  
I think ill have to decide after trying out your cooking skills ;)  
  
just to make sure you dont actually have just one flaw  
  
Aw, you can't just take my word that I'm that perfect? Guess I gotta really impress with that lunch then. Any requests for it?  
  
Im not really picky  
  
ill admit most times I just go for fast food or something easy  
  
I like a nice salad tho sometimes  
  
No risk of burning your house down that way either :)  
  
As terrible as I am with the oven, I swear I can use the stove like a pro xD  
  
Do you like pasta?? We could have salad as an appetizer and then pasta as the main course 🤔  
  
I'm afraid dessert's not gonna be an option if it's made by me though xD  
  
Dw if you're gonna provide a gourmet three course meal then the least I can do is provide dessert  
  
Though this starting to sound a little more like a dinner than lunch... :O  
  
Well I gotta come through for my new number one fan, Mr. Major League Baker.  
  
Though if you want this to be a dinner, we can definitely make it a dinner. Maybe we could even watch a movie after?  
  
  


* * *

  
  


George repeated the mantra in his head. His heart was racing in spite of himself.  _ "This is not a date, this is not a date, this is not a date, this is not a-" _

Dream  
  
Yeah, sure, whatever works  
  


He was thrilled even as he continued the mantra. Although he was a little worried; if Dream proved to be half as touchy as he had been during the class, namely their little game of Never Have I Ever he would probably combust before the night was through.

Great! What time works best for you? I'm free whenever🤷  
  
Ew what even is that emoji lol  
  
Ig 6:30 works good  
  
The bakery closes at 5 ;)  
  
What's wrong with the emoji??  
  
Also can you drive or do you want me to pick you up?  
  
It's so g r o s s  
  
I uh dont actually drive lmao  
  
so I don't have a license haha  
  
You could be my personal uber or I could just take a bus, up to u  
  
Pfft as if I'd miss out on a chance to show off even more. I'm a pro driver, Georgie. Nascar wishes they could afford me and my car, but perfection like this is simply to good to share 😎  
  
Well, too good to share with anyone but you.  
  


Assuming Dream owned a POS car he was just trying very hard to upsell himself, George simply scoffed and typed out a short yet snarky response.

Dream  
  
Whatever you say hot shot  
  
Just keep it street legal  
  
You dont exactly seem like the type to stick to the rules of the road lol  
  
You're so mean to the person offering to spoil you  
  
Maybe I'm just a mean person ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
  
Bet u didnt consider that did you, dreamie  
  
you mightve just offered free food and a movie to a super villain  
  
Jokes on you, offering free food to super villains is my pastime. They make the best Never Have I Ever partners too, did you know that?  
  
:O  
  
No way  
  
Youve gotta be joking  
  
Well if thats the case then im definitely beating you next time we play 😈  
  
Hell no. I won before, I'll absolutely win again. "Illegal tactics" and all ;)  
  


George cursed as the memory came back to him. Damn his illegal tactics and especially damn that he didn't do more of them. The heat felt so long ago against his cool skin.

He felt an aching in his chest for a touch, any touch really but whenever he closed his eyes all he could feel were Dream's hands, a little coarse but warm and large. 

The memory was almost enough to cause an afterspark, but not quite. It wasn’t nearly enough. George grumbled as he considered cuddling into a blanket around his house to try and mimic a hug or something to chase the sweet sensation of physical contact.

Dream  
  
Dont u dare  
  
watch me win with perfectly legal tactics  
  


Cheekily, he decided to add,

now whos the super villain breaking all the rules? ;)  
  


George smirked at his screen.

Dream  
  
Pfft definitely not the one who's cooking dinner tomorrow. It's getting pretty late though, I'm gonna head to bed. I'll come pick you up at ~6, is that ok?  
  
👍  
  
Ill save you a pastry before closing up as payment for the ride, but ill sneak some ingredients to make proper desert - I hope you havent ruined your oven TOO much  
  
(also dont tell bad or hell call me a muffinhead and force me to make like 10000 muffins)  
  
Dw, your secret's safe with me xD  
  
Goodnight, little super villain. See you tomorrow :)  
  
Sleep well delinquent  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!


	3. Never Have I Ever Gone on a Strictly “Platonic” Movie Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream and George have dinner.
> 
> It ends with cuddles and a questioning of sexualities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel obligated to say that the movie debate scene where Dream has never seen Elf was basically just the exact same as the conversation between Juno and I.
> 
> ANYWAY
> 
> Happy reading!

True to his word, Dream was standing beside his car outside the bakery a few minutes before 6. Although this was just a hang out, he had dressed up nicely, and a subtle smell of cologne could be smelt if you got close enough. He was leaning against the driver's door of his car as he scrolled through his phone, occasionally glancing up to see if George was around. 

The car looked rather nice, though a bit expensive. Although he had certainly been joking around last night, it seemed he hadn't been playing it up that much.

George had just finished cleaning up and ensuring that perishable pastries were either dealt with or preserved for later. By the time the bakery had closed and Bad said goodbye, his nerves had only been skyrocketing as he checked the clock every five minutes. At 6 he gave one final look around the place to make sure he hadn't missed anything in his excitement, threw off his apron and walked outside.

His jaw dropped when he saw the cleaned up Dream and the bright yellow, expensive looking car he was leaning against. "Wh- I- Did you rent a car or something?? I wasn't informed this would be a black tie event." 

He looked down at his casual clothes he'd worn to work. "I would have dressed nicer."

Dream let out his signature wheeze at the comment, shaking his head since he was laughing too hard to respond with a no. "This is my car! Fully paid for, not just some rental. Glad you like it though," He explained between wheezes, feeling rather proud for the reaction he'd gotten. 

"Don't worry about your outfit, you look great. Now c'mon, I've got dinner to make, and I don't wanna keep you waiting," His tone was light and teasing, though the compliment was sincere.

George was now ten times more nervous but nodded, trying to take the compliment. He wished desperately to think of some sort of witty comeback or something semi-intelligent to say but he couldn't think of anything. "Nice car, interesting color, though. Why yellow?" He asked, trying to make at least somewhat polite conversation.

"Hey, totally random and completely unrelated question," Dream began awkwardly, appearing to be desperately trying to hold back a laugh, "are you colorblind?"

George gave a sigh. He closed his eyes in considerable disappointment. "It's not yellow, is it?"

With that, Dream's laughter broke through, followed by a series of apologies. "Sorry, sorry- I don't mean to laugh, I've had this happen with other friends too. But no, it's not yellow. It's lime green."

He gave the car with an irritated look and climbed in. "Well, that's an even weirder color then! I'll rephrase my question, why lime green?" He raised an eyebrow as Dream entered the car after him.

"Because it's the best color of the entire rainbow, duh," Dream joked as he got situated, waiting for them both to click on their seatbelts before he began driving.

"I'm no expert in color," he started, clicking in his seatbelt "but is  _ lime green  _ in the rainbow?" He asked with an amused smile, half curious and half teasing.

"It is! Right after yellow is green, and if you don't use lime green to represent it then you're honestly making it wrong," Dream sounded rather passionate over a silly color, defending it with the same certainty as he had when he was hating on Discord light mode.

George giggled a little titter of a laugh, enjoying the enthusiasm. "I'll try to keep that in mind the next time I'm struggling to color in the rainbow."

"Well now that you've got me, I'll make sure you never choose the wrong green," Dream assured with a light laugh.

George felt a small warmth blossoming, soft and happy. It was such a dumb offhand comment that felt like it held more meaning than it seemed. "Oh yeah? I'm sure Bad would appreciate that. I nearly made yellow Christmas tree cookies today." He huffed out playfully as he stared out the window to watch the rolling scenery.

The idea of a yellow Christmas tree was enough to pull out another signature wheeze from the blond, who laughed out a light-hearted, "Oh god."

"Well, I suppose yellow Christmas tree cookies are better than whatever burnt tragedy I'd make. I'd definitely burn down the bakery if I touched anything, even frosting," Dream joked. They were almost at his house, and despite it being a somewhat luxurious place, Dream's heart began to race as he wondered if George would like it. He wasn't quite sure why he cared; maybe it was just the desire to impress a new friend. It felt like something different though. 

However, at the thought of his home, a realization came crashing suddenly onto him. "Oh my god, I just realized, I totally forgot to warn you that I own a cat. I can keep her in my room while you're over if you'd like, though I swear she's a sweetheart. Sorry, I probably should've told you sooner, I'm just so used to my friends being excited to see Patches."

"Patches? She sounds like a sweetheart. And you’re fine, I love cats." George responded happily with a wide smile before it faltered into a grimace. "My landlord doesn't allow pets but one day I'll get my own cat." His smile came back. "She and I can keep each other busy while you cook. I'll gladly give her all the attention she wants."

"She is a sweetheart! Though be careful promising attention, she wants everyone's constant attention pretty much  _ 25 _ /7. 24 hours simply isn't enough for her," He warned with a chuckle. 

They were just arriving on his street, and soon pulled into his driveway. His house wasn't  _ big _ , but for a young guy living alone, it was fairly impressive. He seemed content with it anyways, since a wide smile spread across his lips at the sight. "And we're here. Patches should be there to greet us by the door, don't let her slip out on our way in."

"I'll just have to give her 26, then," George assured Dream as he got out of the car, then he saw the house and his mouth dropped open in shock again. "A...are you some kind of rich inherent? Am I just a gold digger?" He asked in shock, only half joking.

"Oh, I'm not that rich, I've just gotten fairly lucky these past few years. Lady Luck's taken quite an interest in my career," Dream spoke in a joking tone, though to him, it was true. His career had taken off recently, resulting in him being able to afford all of his nice things. "And hey, if you're a gold digger, at least I'll get some good pastries out of this."

George fixed him with a skeptical look, dragging his eyes away from the house to look up at Dream. "I don't think you get how gold digging works..." he tried to joke although his voice fell flat in awe. He walked towards the house in uncertainty, trailing behind Dream as much as possible.

Dream led George to the house, pulling out his keys to unlock the front door quickly before opening it. He rushed the other side, closing it behind him as Patches came wandering over. She let out a loud, somewhat confused meow to the boys, staring up at the brunet with curiosity.

George resisted the temptation to coo in adoration, staring into her big round eyes. "She's so cute!" He reached down and patted between her ears, his heart melting as she purred into his palm, rubbing her head against his hand and moving to weave between his legs. He giggled. "I think she likes me."

"Can't blame her," Dream remarked casually as he walked further inside, taking off his shoes and placing his shoes at the bottom of the coat closet. 

"Make yourself at home, I'm gonna be in the kitchen. You can join me there, or play with Patches, or just.. explore. I dunno, do whatever." With a shrug, Dream left to go work on the rest of their dinner, since he obviously couldn't prep everything before going to pick up George.

"Explore?" George said, intrigued, intentionally ignoring the little jibe that made his heart beat just a little faster. 

He rubbed at Patches, distracted as she continued to ribbon between his legs and around his body, pushing against him and nearly knocking him clean on his ass. She meowed irritably as if to say that he wasn't giving her nearly enough attention. George laughed as she shoved him over from rubbing against him too hard. She took advantage of his downed position and clambered into his lap, rubbing her head and ears against his chest. 

He looked up to Dream from the floor, dimples turning cheeky. "I can see where you get your touchiness from."

"Wh- I'm not  _ touchy _ ," Dream defended, although he didn't sound offended. "I just  _ know what I like _ . And I like contact." The words were a clear reference to their previous game of Never Have I Ever, and the poorly hidden smirk on his lips revealed that he was well aware of that. As he spoke, he began to prepare their pasta, with the sauce already in a pot (though he had just now turned it on). In another pot, he had water that was barely beginning to bubble.

"Oh, riiight. Whatever you say, hypocrite." George snarked, rolling his eyes playfully. He got comfortable on the floor near the kitchen, playing with Patches and petting her as she went through deciding whether she wanted to purr or beg for more attention. "Pretty sure those are the same thing, genius."

"Nahhh, they're definitely not," Dream argued. He was just debating to debate at this point, not putting much thought into his words. Still, he seemed happy, and rather amused by George's responses thus far. "In fact, I think they're complete opposites, and you can't convince me otherwise," He declared, playfully sticking his tongue out.

"Fine," George responded with a smirk "I won't convince you otherwise. If they're separate, then you're definitely just touchy." He stood up and gave Patches an apologetic look before taking a seat at one of the green bar stools to watch Dream at work. "People who only like contact don't go out of their way to get it." He bit his lip to refrain from adding "I should know."

"Yeah? You say that like you've got experience with that. Do you like contact, George?" He mused, flashing a brief knowing look at the older boy before returning his attention to the food on the stove.

"What?? Why would you even ask such a weird thing... I was just... saying..." George protested, avoiding the question and not giving a clear answer very intentionally.

Dream clearly caught the avoidance, and a smug smirk spread across his lips. "Oh, I'm sure that's  _ such  _ a wild assumption. You, wanting to be held but not saying anything? Surely, that must be impossible. Honestly, what was I even thinking? There's no way it could be true," Dream agreed sarcastically.

"God, you're such an ass." George muttered, he could feel his cheeks heating up again. There was probably no point in trying to dance around a definitive answer any longer. "It's not just being held, jerk. It's about the comfort of physical contact and feeling safe..." he looked away in a semi-playful huff. "Not like you would understand."

"Oh, right, because the reason I go around acting all ' _ touchy _ ' with people is because I don't care about contact," Dream shot back in a teasing tone, the playful huff only widening his smug smirk. "Look, I get it, man. Physical affection is the best. No need to feel embarrassed about it, I'm like it too. I cuddle with my homies all of the time."

George was glad Dream's attention was currently turned to the pasta, so he couldn't see the look of complete and utter confusion he was trying to bore into the back of his skull. 

"' _ Cuddle with the homies _ '..." he echoed in disbelief. George didn't get it, what the hell did that even mean?? Although at the end of the day, he figured, physical touch was physical touch, regardless of the motives behind it. He gave up with a defeated sigh and leaned his head against his palm as his elbow rested on the table.

The pasta was finished rather quickly, with only the occasional comment from one of them. A comfortable silence filled the air for most of it, though. The salad that Dream had promised was stored in the fridge, brought out just after he'd finished cooking.

He pulled out a bowl for each of them, putting a fair amount of salad in each as an appetizer paired with a glass of ice water before finally sitting down to eat. Although there were plenty of seats, he sat right beside George, turning his seat slightly to be facing him a bit more as they ate.

"This all looks delicious." George enthused, genuinely impressed as he looked at the gorgeous presentation of the pasta. The mouth watering appearance of the crispy green leaves also looked inviting from the main bowl of salad. As he took a bite of pasta, savoring the melted cheese covering the grainy goodness, he moaned in appreciation. 

After a few more bites, George looked to Dream with a sheepish laugh, "You've definitely proven yourself. Now I don't know if my own desserts and such will hold up to such a spectacular meal." Was he laying it on a little thick? Maybe. But this was one of the best pastas he'd ever had and was determined to make sure Dream knew it.

Dream flushed brightly at all the compliments, waving it off quickly. "Oh, come on now. There's no way it's  _ that  _ good. Definitely nowhere  _ near  _ as good as your brownies," Dream assured, though he felt rather proud of the pasta. It certainly wasn't the best he'd cooked - he noticed his mistakes immediately, and worried George had too - but if it made his newfound friend this happy, then it was absolutely his favorite meal out of the ones he'd recently made.

" _ Our _ brownies, I think you'll remember." He corrected with a grin between mouthfuls. "And you can't compare cheesy goodness to chocolate delights. That's just no fair to either of them. Apples and oranges you know?" He twirled his pasta around and around his fork, looking to Dream with a relaxed, content look.

"Hmm, that's very true. I suppose I can't argue with that. But you totally deserve all of the credit for  _ our  _ brownies. Also, if you can fix my baking mistakes that well, I don't doubt you're an absolute baking god. So, from one culinary god to another - thanks for joining me tonight. As wonderful company as Patches is, it's nice to cook for someone who can eat the same food that I do." His lips were now in a content, lazy grin, and he locked eyes with George. 

There was something so special about the moment - something he couldn't quite place. For a bit, he completely forgot about his pasta, focusing instead on the boy in front of him.

George had intended to go back to his pasta, really, he did. Or maybe even make some clever quips about Patches and human food. But caught in Dream's sweet gaze, the fun atmosphere melted away into something more intimate and special. For all their teasing tonight, Dream had been beyond kind enough to do this in the first place. In the back of his mind an incessant thought resounded, ' _ does he really do this with all "the homies"?' _ He sure hoped not. Or maybe they were just more immune to his dopey look as dinner paused to share...  _ something _ . 

Time seemed to still before he could speak again. "Seriously, Dream, He dared to break the moment, break the silence. He pleaded that it wouldn't break the moment as he continued on, "Thank you for the dinner, it was a nice gesture and even nicer meal."

Dream felt a heat flood his cheeks, though he wasn't quite sure why. He had already moved past the compliments from early; why was he still flushing? 

"Y-yeah, yeah, any time. I'm... really enjoying this. Not the pasta- well, I do like the pasta- but... hanging out. Spending time with you. You're really cool," His words came out awkward and a stammered mess, but if anything, it only made the moment more genuine. His "cool guy" persona was melting away so quickly around George, he didn't know what to do.

George laughed nervously and finally broke the moment by looking away, staring at some random kitchen decoration that caught his eye. It happened to be the light hanging above, he cringed as the bright lights sank into his vision. A poor choice of distraction. "Yeah right, Mr. Perfect.  _ I'm  _ cool." As if to prove a point he turned back, blinking furiously. "I think I just blinded myself staring at your weird bubble lights. Is that your definition of cool?"

Dream let out his signature wheeze, laughing until he was coughing a bit. "Oh yeah, that's definitely the coolest thing I've seen, like, ever. Honestly, there's nothing smoother than blinding yourself with bubble lights."

"Really? Nothing?" George challenges, competitive nature taking over and his mischievous streak showing its face. The hand holding the pasta had since sunk back onto the plate, long forgotten.

"Hm... yep, nothing," Dream shot back, pretending to give it genuine thought. However, the mischief and competitiveness had spread to his face, shown especially from the determined glint in his green eyes.

"What about... winning the first game of pasta Chicken to ever take place?" George challenged, voice hiding a hint of nervousness. What the hell was he thinking. Why would he suggest such a thing? A teeny part of him almost hoped Dream would say no.

Dream's initial response was the loudest wheeze he'd let out around George yet, however, he did eventually nod. "You're just trying to one-up yourself at this point, but fine. I don't back down from a challenge though, chicken," He teased.

"This will be way cooler than me blinding myself." George assured him. "We'll see who's the chicken by the end of this." He was smug, perhaps overconfident as he relied on his ego to drown out the nerves.

"First to bite off the noodle loses." He said cockily.

Then, carefully, George unwound his fork until there was only one noodle strand left. He put one end in his mouth then unrolled it to offer the other end on the fork to Dream. His heart was pounding in his ears, but his gaze was determined with that playful ambition as his eyes never wavered from Dream's.

As Dream stared at the noodle, he felt his heart begin to beat rather harshly. The pounding filled his head, so loud that he was certain George could hear it too. However, as he stared up at those playful brown eyes that had so quickly found a special place in his mind, he couldn't help but grin.

So Dream took the end of the noodle, securing it just barely within his mouth to give plenty of space between him and those inevitable pink lips that were curled in a competitive smile.

There was something so off about it. Not in a bad way, but a way that he wasn't used to. He wasn't used to feeling his heart pound so loudly that it seemed like it would explode at any second. Even on first dates with girls, he never got so nervous. So what was so terrifying about the perfect, playful smirk that awaited him on the other side of the noodle?

Maybe it wasn't nervousness he felt. Maybe it was excitement.

The world didn't fall away as George expected it to, instead he was hyper aware of everything as he slowly started slurping the noodle, his head moving closer to Dream's at a snail's pace. 

He could smell the lingering scent of cheese and meat and sauce and something that was already in the house before Dream even started cooking, a nice soothing flowery scent that reeked of Dream. 

He was aware of Patches curling around the seats, of the sky outside darkening and of a clock ticking somewhere unseen. 

He could also smell the lavish cologne as he crept closer. Did Dream put on cologne for a friendly get together...? The thought was quickly banished as their faces became less than 3 inches away. 

Any thought he had was eradicated as all he could focus on was counting every light freckle that George hadn't even noticed before.

Dream was moving as slow as possible as he inched further along the noodle, trying desperately to focus on  _ anything _ but the boy who was slowly coming closer and closer to his face. ' _ Stop, no, stop, chicken out, I can't do this, it's too real, stop, _ ' His brain yelled at him, but those thoughts melted away as he realized they were mere inches apart. ' _ Do I want this?? Why do I want this?? _ ' 

Dream’s thoughts had melted from panicked yelling to uncertain whispers. He had shown plenty of affection to his friends over the years, some of which were just as "romantic" as this, but there was something  _ different _ about this. It hurt his head, trying to process what made George so  _ different _ . 

Hell, he'd even kissed a guy before, hence why he'd chosen his wording carefully during the Never Have I Ever game. But that kiss was a simple little dare that meant nothing to him. 

So what was so overwhelming about being an inch away from George's face, connected by a noodle that had seemed so long earlier but now seemed unbearably short?

Dream wasn't against this, which was the confusing part. Dream was completely fine with this - even excited. But that made no sense.  _ George  _ made no sense. 

Attempting to wrap his head around the situation was giving him a headache. Yet, the moment their lips made contact, he could almost feel his brain short circuit instantly. He was frozen, eyes wide and breath caught in his throat. Yet, despite how it froze his brain, the contact was welcoming and warm, melting through his confusion for just a moment. Then he was pulling away quickly, somewhat choking on the noodle and nearly falling off the stool. His cheeks were an undeniably bright red, and each sound he tried to make was dying in his throat.

George pulled away, watching Dream flail as he experienced amusement, embarrassment and horror all at once. It was  _ really _ funny to watch him get all fidgety and choked up about it, literally. 

But he considered it longer than two seconds, and realized that they'd kissed.  _ They. Had. Kissed. _ After overcoming the aggravating butterflies that fluttered wildly in his stomach, it occurred to him that Dream probably found the whole thing gross. His reaction only further confirmed his beliefs. 

George tried to not let it get to him too much, he was most likely straight after all. The tiny voice in the back of his mind echoed " _ most likely _ ". He decided to instead revel in the tiny contact and the victory. 

He smiled smugly at Dream. "I won," he ignored the voice telling him to be civil and polite and to  _ not be a sore winner- _ "Chicken.”

“I- you-  _ shutupokay _ ," Dream choked out, though there was no hostility in his voice. "I'm not a chicken- I just- I- look, I was expecting you to chicken out, I wasn't prepared for  _ neither of us _ to chicken out before, y'know," he awkwardly attempted to defend himself, though it was no use. 

He brought a hand up to his cheek, feeling the warmth radiating from it, and felt somewhat grateful that George didn’t have the ability to see the bright red that was undoubtedly covering his entire face.

_ Was that a kiss? Did that count as a kiss? Or was that just a simple game that Dream was reading far too much into? _ It seemed that every game ended in one of them smug while the other was internally panicking. Though, he was still caught up on why this mattered so much to him.

"Well, you expected wrong," George grinned, rather chuffed with himself. "No need to be such a baby about it." He turned back to the rest of pasta, needing to look away before he ended up letting the embarrassment catch up to him in the afterglow of his victory.

"Well now I know that, for whenever we have a rematch," Dream remarked, not quite processing the connotation of his comeback until after he spoke. Still, he flashed a cocky smirk, as if it had been fully intentional. With that, he returned his attention to his pasta.

George wasn't certain if he'd be able to keep his cool if they did a  _ rematch. _ He couldn't even believe Dream was suggesting it. Almost falling off his chair one second then proposing that they do it again the next. 

He felt like he was understanding Dream less and less but wanting to know more and more. Dinner was finished rather quickly as they both picked at the pasta, deep in thought. 

As both of them reached finishing their food, George finally spoke up. "So, should I make the dessert while you put on a movie? I think I'll be able to see and hear you and the TV from the kitchen.”

"Sure!" Dream chirped, grateful for the change in topic. His mouth was already watering at the mention of dessert, as he usually didn't eat any unless it was store bought. 

Occasionally, his mom would come over and try to teach him how to make something, but it'd usually end in store bought cookies and the foul scent of burnt chocolate coming from the trash. 

Standing up, he grabbed their plates and brought it to the sink, deciding to simply rinse them for now. He'd do dishes after he brought George home. 

"So, what types of movies do you usually like to watch? I could find us something on Netflix," Dream offered, walking to the living room and plopping down on the couch. Patches followed not far behind, settling on his lap. He grabbed the remote, turning on the TV as he awaited a response.

"I know it's a little cliché, and it's not everyone's thing... B-but um, if you don't  _ absolutely  _ hate it, I find crappy rom coms super fun to laugh at and... stuff." George stood, getting out the ingredients he brought and hiding his face away from Dream as he proposed the idea.

Dream let out a light chuckle, not the biggest fan of rom coms himself, but began searching for one without uttering a complaint. What a simp he was. "What type of rom com should I be looking for? If you say a Christmas one, I'm pretty sure I'll combust on the spot, though," He said as he casually scrolled through the rom com section, internally cringing at the thought of a  _ Christmas rom com _ . 

The only thing that could get him to watch one of those atrocities would be a challenge, and he was praying that George hadn't figured that out.

George preheated the oven, running through the recipe in his mind, thankful he'd committed it to memory since moving here. "The type that looks so bad it'll be good. Or an actually good one. It's up to you where you want to place your bets." He chuckled easily. 

Really, he wouldn't go out of his way to watch a romcom alone, probably, but with friends it was the best experience ever. 

He recalled many nights that Bad and he had sat down on George's shitty little couch, sometimes even Skeppy would come over and join in, as they mercilessly mocked the poor romcom in question. He hoped he could show Dream the same fun time. 

George especially hoped to do the  _ friend _ thing right. He cursed his beating heart as he tried to find his logic deep within that reassured him he didn't stand a chance with the probably straight Dream. 

The really touchy Dream that resulted in him melting like the butter he was lathering on the pie tin. 

The really  _ attractive Dre- _ Okay, logic clearly wasn't helping. 

He focused back on his task of making the best dessert Dream had ever tasted. It would be hard to get right and he knew he was competing with only about 1,000,000 or more people for the taste, the texture and everything else. A nice calm settled over his mind, rather than finding anxiety at trying to make something perfect, he was in his area of expertise. 

He didn't just bake for work, he loved it immensely in all regards. Growing up and baking with his mother had set him down the path of finding joy in the precise measuring and the not so precise experimentation of making something that tasted  _ incredible. _

Dream had an all too familiar determined glint in his eyes. It seemed he was rather competitive about pretty much everything, even when finding the best rom com to roll his eyes at a million times. 

Eventually, he settled on one about a big-name business woman who has to return home and runs into her ex, who she falls in love with all over again; a classic, and Dream hated it already. He supposed that was part of the charm, though. There was a certain familiarity and comfort that came from clichés, as unbearable and cheesy as they were. Besides, they were the  _ best _ to mock, and if he had to sit through a rom com, then he'd sure as hell make fun of it the  _ entire _ time.

George peeped over to the screen when he heard a cheesy pop song that was already paining him. Perfect. He grinned a wide smile over at Dream. "This looks like a great pick. I can already feel my ears starting to bleed as this song worms its way into my brain to never leave."

"What do you mean? This song is a total banger, definitely makes me wanna make out with the first person I see. Truly, it's a testament to romance," Dream sarcastically responded, letting out a loud wheeze at his own joke.

George scavenged the kitchen as he laughed along, resisting the urge to make some sort of flirtatious joke back. That would just be out of line. "Sure, maybe if making out was the sole method of making the music stop."

Dream's only response was a laugh as he turned his attention back to the movie. Constant scoffs or mocking lines came from him, and it was only like 5 minutes in. He was trying to hold back, but god he hated rom coms. 

Glancing back, he decided to pay a bit more attention to George before he got genuinely invested in the painful movie. "What're you making?" He questioned, tilting his head like a curious puppy.

"It's a surprise." George responded. He looked up and gave a half smile, amused at seeing Dream's head turn. "No amount of puppy eyes will work on me, I'll have you know."

“Awww, please?" Dream pleaded, giving his best attempt at puppy eyes despite what George had  _ literally just said. _

"Nope." George popped his p as he mixed something in a metal bowl, it looked creamy and fluffy. "Although, you make very nice puppy eyes." He said only half sarcastically.

"You're so cruel! I've been nothing but nice, I totally deserve to know," He cried out dramatically, though the grin on his face was very clearly visible. He turned his attention back to the TV, petting Patches in the process.

"You do deserve to know!" Geoege agreed enthusiastically. " _ After _ it's ready!" He peered into the bowl after a bout of particularly intense whisking. He looked fairly pleased at the contents.

"But Georgie," Dream whined, drawing out the "ie". He turned around again for a few moments with the cutest pout he could manage, before turning back to the TV just in time to hide his smile. "I wanna know now."

George scoffed. "God, you sound so  _ needy _ , Dream. The real thing will be ready in..." he glanced into the oven, "about 6 minutes." An idea struck him and he walked over to Dream with the bowl, a cheeky look covering his face.

Dream glanced up at George, looking rather skeptical at the sight of the bowl and George's expression. "What're you doing?" He questioned.

Without another word, just a stifled giggle as his smile grew wider, he dipped his finger into the substance in the bowl then aimed for Dream's mouth. He didn't really care if Dream managed to open his mouth in time or not, Dream would either taste this delicious stuff from his finger or licking it off of the remnants of a very strangely applied lip gloss.

Dream opened his mouth to question George once more, but was silenced as a finger covered in the bowl's contents was pushed in his mouth. He froze, mentally panicking at the sudden intrusion for a several moments, before he timidly licked the substance off of the boy's finger. His eyes held uncertainty at first, but widened at the taste. He let out a happy hum to show his approval.

George smiled, a little nervous now. He wasn't actually certain how long to let his finger linger. He nearly jumped at the tongue brushing against his finger. Logically he should have known that would happen, he almost began laughing at himself for getting startled. 

He gave it exactly 3 seconds more before quickly retracting his finger. "So how is the whipped cream? It's nice and homemade! Usually the "diy" stuff is either too liquidy from under whipping or super gross from over whipping because at that point it just gets weird and chunky and then you've ruined the whole thing because there's always more whipping you can do, but you can't undo-" he cut himself off as he realized he was rambling. He cleared his throat a little. 

"A-anyway, how is it?"

Dream let out a soft chuckle, finding the rambling rather adorable. "It's amazing, George. You did really good," He assured, almost surprising himself at the sincerity in his voice.

George felt his cheeks warm as he pivoted away with a pretend scoff. "Y-yeah, of course I did." 

He quickly walked away with the cream before Dream could see just how much the simple compliment was affecting him. The words were like some sort of verbal hug, enwrapping him in a pleasant feeling that reached every corner of his and made him see fresh spring flowers blooming. His thoughts turned warmer, more heated as they pooled somewhere in his gut from the praise. He fucking hated this. Dream's words were echoing in his mind as he checked on his pie.  _ You did really good. _

In the back of his brain, he considered just going onto grindr and getting everything he was imagining with someone actually willing. 

George cursed as that line of thinking was swiftly shut down by his eyes finally focusing on the contents of the oven. He was about a minute late, but pulling it out and smelling it, it looked fine. He banished anymore gay thoughts away for the night. 

He'd take a leaf out of Dream's book. "Homie" mode was now engaged.

Dream perked up at the scent, turning to try to see whatever wonderful creation George had made. However, with Patches still on his lap and getting slightly grouchy at his constant movement, he wasn't able to see. "Mmm, what's that? It smells awesome," He stated, straining his neck to try to catch a glimpse.

"What it is, is not ready." George called out in a mockingly sweet voice, making sure his back was to Dream as he walked over to the fridge and put the tin into a neatly open spot amidst a variety of unhealthy snacks as well as a few actually decent foods to put into your body.

Dream let out a loud groan, playing up his disappointment quite a bit. "Georgie, you're such a heartbreaker," He whined out.

George rolled his eyes in amusement, "Just like that ex-fiancee you're totally ignoring now?" He pointed to the screen where the movie lay completely forgotten.

This caught Dream's attention, and he turned back to the TV. His attention was quickly captured by the film, as terrible as it was. He finally remained still as he tried to piece together what he'd missed.

George couldn't help but give a small giggle at that. Time passed as he leaned against the island, watching the movie from the kitchen and waiting out the dessert cooling. 

He ended up pulling out earlier than he was supposed to, unable to bear the awkward distance between him, Dream and the movie. Besides, even if it wasn't firm the texture of the whipped cream and taste would more than make up for it. He perused through Dream's kitchen again until he managed to gather all the utensils and serve two plates of sweet goodness. 

Then he walked over to join Dream and Patches. George handed the plate to Dream with a tiny sheepish smile. "I know a native Floridian like yourself has probably had better, and I might've rushed it a little. But here's my version of a key lime pie."

Dream's face lit up as he took the pie, barely getting a quick "Thanks!" out before he began eating. He let out a satisfied moan as the taste filled his mouth, pleasantly surprised with the flavor. 

If he'd had better before, it would certainly have been too long for him to remember. The slice was gone in hardly over two minutes, holding his complete attention until he'd finished it.

George didn't even bother to hide his laugh as he watched Dream enjoy his pie. "Do you want more? You look like a man dying of thirst. I'm guessing that means it was good, if not a little gooey.” 

"It's  _ really _ good, George," Dream assured, adding, "and yeah, I'd love more if that's okay."

George chuckled, grabbing their plates for seconds and yelling out from the kitchen. "Okay, but this is the last bit before I'll stick it back into the fridge to let it get more sturdy for you later. And I can actually sit down and properly mock that movie with you." He shot a quick glance up from the pie at the screen uncertainly. "If it isn't almost over..."

"We can put on another!" Dream offered, having hardly seen any of the movie himself since he'd been so distracted trying to figure out what George was making.

Bringing back the plates and ensuring the rest of the pie was secured in the fridge, he looked to the screen just to see the credits roll. "Damn... missed the cheesy airport " _ noooo come back you cant leave I loveeee youuu _ " scene. I guess it was good timing for me to come back, huh?" He handed a plate to Dream and tentatively sat one Patches away from Dream, not wanting to disturb her peace on Dream's lap, nor the man himself. "So what next?"

“Let's watch another! You barely got to see any of this one. I'll even suffer through a  _ Christmas _ rom com, just for you," Dream offered. He wasn't quite sure why he was offering to do something he hated. Maybe he thought it'd make George laugh, especially after he'd missed the first movie. Or maybe he just wanted an excuse to show that he cared about George, by claiming he'd be watching it just for him.

"Hmm, a Christmas rom com? Are you sure? Those are the most cheese induced films to ever be created, it's enough to turn anyone lactose intolerant. Oooh, do you think maybe Elf counts?" George pondered aloud, more to himself than Dream, but engaging him in the conversation all the same.

"Um... I've never watched that," Dream admitted quietly. This happened far too often; a friend would ramble about some movie they liked, only to be severely disappointed or enraged when they found out he hadn't seen it yet. He had a feeling this would be no exception.

"You- YOU WHAT??" George practically screamed, demonstrating a rather impressive vocal range that included normal talking as well as operatic levels of being able to shatter glass at high pitches. "It's a  _ classic _ , Dream!" He insisted fervently. "Forget about rom coms, Elf is a classic Christmas movie that everyone should watch as a feel good near the holiday season! And last time I checked Thanksgiving ended... I think. So it's free reign!"

“The only Christmas movie I watch yearly is Nightmare Before Christmas. Do you think Elf can live up to those standards?" Dream questioned in a partly-teasing, partly-curious tone.

George rolled his eyes. "Apples and oranges. Besides, Nightmare before Christmas is only, like, half of a Christmas movie. Elf is super fun with a really fun story and tons of Christmas spirit and some pretty decent claymation style cgi. Not only that but Elf has it all; love, magic, drama, oddly specific office building dynamics of a children's book illustration company- see? It has it all. Oh, also drunk dancing in a super dingy mailroom." He smiled victoriously at Dream, knowing that at this point he was really just hyping up the movie before they inevitably watched it.

“Well geez, I didn't know Elf was such a  _ masterpiece. _ You're setting pretty damn high expectations for it now, though you've got my interest," Dream tone was now fully teasing as he searched for the movie on Netflix, starting it once he found it. He remained silent as it started, focusing on his second slice of pie and giving genuine focus to the movie, since it clearly meant a lot to George for some reason.

The movie opened with an unexpected 3d clay animation winter wonderland as bright cheery Christmas music played, leading them into the movie. "See? It's already better than the last one," Geoege pointed out, "this stuff doesn't make me want to get a concussion to just forget its existence." 

The movie continued, not really ever settling into one genre as it began in a story book setting then shifted into a life story of sorts. 

Despite it's inconsistency, it was fun and fast paced, full of nonsense to poke fun at, which George made sure to do, as did Dream. It was a fun movie and George had probably seen it 15 times before, but it was somehow more fun than all 15 times combined with Dream by his side.

Dream truly did intend to give it his 100% focus throughout the entire thing, but it seemed that eating such a big meal had gotten him rather tired. He started to doze off a few times, eventually setting his plate on the coffee table so it wouldn't fall down. 

At one point, he'd started to lean on George while dozing off. Even when he woke up, he remained like that, with his head on the shorter boy's shoulder as he did his best to remain awake. By the end of the movie, he was almost asleep again.

George couldn't say he was surprised when Dream fell asleep, it was almost- he glanced at a clock. Ten o’ clock? Wow, he had been here a while. 

Debating between trying to wake Dream up and just letting him be, George decided he liked the way that Dream was exactly the right height to easily rest into his shoulder. Was this ‘cuddling with the homies’? 

He very much liked it. 

The room was still and dark, illuminated by tiny white wording asking "Are you still watching?", he figured the answer was no for both of them since it appeared that Dream was nodding off again.

Delicately, George lifted a hand and ran the tips of his fingers along the surface of Dream's hair, it  _ was _ as soft as it looked. Good to know. 

Movement by his legs grabbed his attention as he shot his hand away, afraid he'd angered some sort of guardian ghost. He looked down and saw Patches staring up at him. He giggled quietly. "Hey there, girl. You wanna join the pile?" Almost like an instantaneous answer she bounded up onto his lap. Settling herself cozily on top of his thighs. 

Belatedly, George realized that would only result in him being thoroughly pinned to the couch. He figured it would be good etiquette to ask if he should leave, but then again, the person who would probably have to be his ride was on his way to dreamland. Hehe. Dream land. Literally. 

George looked outside a window towards trees and the quiet road outside. If need be he could just call a cab or uber. He decided to ask regardless.

"Hey, Dream?" he whispered, feathery soft in case he startled the man nestled onto his shoulder.

“Hmm?" Dream responded, not bothering to open his eyes. He was barely holding onto his consciousness, not even realizing that George was now stuck here, since he was far too tired to drive them both himself. Instead, he'd already made up his mind that this was where he was sleeping, remaining cuddled against George unless pushed off.

George would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying this; Cat on his lap, Dream on his shoulder and slowly sinking even closer and the soft patter of rain outside. 

Oh. He looked outside to see the rain, he supposed it must've started sometime near the end of the movie. 

He felt guilty trying to wake Dream up but he also knew that he'd feel guiltier if he ended up falling asleep and burdening Dream in the morning by appearing on his couch unmoved. 

He rubbed a hand over Dream's arm, gently trying to stir him awake enough to hear him. "Hey," he shook his arm a little harder, though he knew it probably wasn't enough to properly awaken him "Dream, I need you to move a little, you big clingy baby. I should probably leave."

"Do you want to leave?" He murmured out, glancing up at George with the same puppy eyes he'd used to try to see the pie. 

George leaving would end this little moment they were sharing, and this moment felt like the entire world to him right then. So, it'd be the end of the world. How could he go on without his human pillow?

George's heart tightened as Dream stared up at him. God, maybe he  _ was _ weak to puppy dog eyes. 

Nervously he stammered out "N-no... but I  _ should _ ." he insisted, sounding less and less convinced with every passing second he felt the warmth from Dream's body seep into his own. 

It was so soft and warm and he could feel Dream's sleepiness affecting him like an infection.

"Stay," Dream sounded like he had decided for George, though as he realized how demanding it sounded, he added a soft, "please?"

George’s head was almost swimming, intoxicated by Dream's soft tone and inviting words. All he could focus on was the way Dream's words held such power over him and how much he wanted to just sink into his arms and never leave. 

George submitted to his whims, ignoring "homie mode", tentatively moving his arms to curl around Dream as he shifted his body further into the couch. 

Dream let out a muffled protest before realizing that George had only made the cuddling more comfortable as they maneuvered into a horizontal position more laying down than just uncomfortably shoved together in a sitting position. 

"Okay, fine..." he muttered, trying to pretend like his arms snaking around Dream was a completely normal homie move. "I'll stay, but you better not complain tomorrow." George’s tone was soft and sleepy, muffled as he spoke into Dream's messy hair.

Dream's only response was a content hum, closing his eyes once more and nestling farther into the other's arms. A comfortable silence fell over them, and it seemed that Dream had fallen asleep. Then, a few moments later, he let out a soft whisper. "George?"

George let out an inquisitive "hmm?" before he yawned, unable to stop himself in the cozy atmosphere. He could feel their breaths turning slow and heavy, syncing up as he began to nod off.

Dream was silent for a few moments, contemplating his question. He wasn't quite sure how to word it, and honestly, he was considering pretending like he'd simply fallen asleep. But it was now or never, right? "How... um... how'd you know you were gay?" He muttered out with uncertainty.

George blinked his drowsy eyes open in surprise before looking down at Dream to make sure he'd heard him right. Dream looked peaceful, but after a moment he stirred and George was certain he was awake. So he hadn't been hearing things, huh. It was actually a little touching that Dream wanted to know, even if it was right before they were about to pass out from exhaustion on a couch. 

"Hmm..." he began with a contemplative hum. He kept his voice low and soft as he spoke, "It's not like I'm a late bloomer or anything. I think I knew around secondary school? Or high school as you weirdo Americans usually call it, I think. I had my fair share of girls come up to me and ask if I wanted to go get coffee." He laughed a little, starting to twirl idle fingers through Dream's hair. 

"And I would usually say something like " _ Oh, I already have a drink _ " or something equally dense because I didn't realize they wanted to go on a date. Or something. I mean similar instances happened before that but that was when I really started to figure it out. I tried to date this one girl, because all my friends insisted she was the hottest girl in school and she seemed really nice and something felt wrong about doing it, but I did it anyway. She helped me realize that it didn't matter how nice or sweet or pretty the girl was, I just didn't like them romantically or, uh,  _ sexually _ ." 

He gave an embarrassed titter before continuing. "I broke it off after I realized that my eyes would wander a little too much in the locker rooms and not at all around her and like the sweet person she was, she took it really well and civilly." 

George paused, deep in thought. "I think maybe she knew somehow. She didn't deserve to waste her time with me... I kinda wish I'd figured it out sooner. People always deserve to know. Well, either way, after that I experimented more and figured out that it was definitely for me. And I've been comfortable with my sexuality ever since."

"Is it... uh..." Dream trailed off, not quite sure how to say it. So many questions swarmed his brain, all of which he didn't have the energy to ask or the knowledge of how to word. He was so, so confused about so many things. 

"Um.. what if... I know I like girls, but I don't know if I like guys? Like- ah, I dunno. I'm just... confused," He finally admitted, feeling rather frustrated. 

No matter what he tried to say, it never came out right. He knew that he was laying here with a girl, sharing the same moments with her instead, he'd consider it romantic without any confusion. But at the same time, if he was sharing these moments with someone like Sapnap, there'd be no doubt in his mind that it was platonic.

So why didn't it feel platonic with George? Why did this feel so intimate and special- and confusing?

George couldn't help but laugh at the confusion in the small voice beneath him. "Yeah that's normal, Dream. Sexuality isn't as clean cut as mainstream media makes it out to be. It's also fluid and capable of change. It's okay to be confused." 

He let out another giggle. "And you know being bisexual is a thing right?" He gulped down a heavy swallow that felt like a bowling ball as he considered Dream questioning his supposed straightness. He managed out the next words with only slight tremor convincing himself not to raise his hopes up, "Even if you are more attracted to women, or only know relationships with them, you could just be bi leaning towards females." He laughed nervously, logic and lack of homie mode trying to stop him from continuing "There's really only one way to know." he said, his tone more nervous and soft than before. Sleep was quickly fading from his eyes as they focused on Dream.

"Maybe I should experiment," Dream murmured, a bit too sleepy to give much thought to his careless words. His filter was quickly slipping away, and if he didn't go to sleep soon then he'd end up saying more than he intended to. "Maybe I should date a guy."

Those were his last words before he fell into a gentle slumber, his breathing slowing and his body falling limp. He looked rather peaceful there, cuddled against George without a worry in the world.

George stared at Dream in disbelief, with  _ every single _ worry in the world. A slight pressure landing on his stomach pulled his attention away from the serene man now curled into him. He loved it, but looking to the right, he saw patches curling up on his leg. 

He gave a gentle sigh, moving his hand from Dream's hair to pet patches, looking at her in resignation. "Dream's probably going to be the death me, isn't he, Patches?" 

Patches purred back, rubbing into his hand as if to comfort him and his death wish.


	4. Never Have I Ever Avoided My Sexuality Through Bedwars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> homie hours

The early morning sun shone brightly through the window, filling Dream's vision rather painfully as his eyes fluttered open. It wasn't that bright, but in his tired state, it was as if a flashlight was being shone directly in his eyes. "Fuck," He groaned out slowly, blinking his eyes rapidly to adjust.

Memories of the previous night flooded back to him, pulling a gentle smile onto his face. Glancing back at the boy who had so graciously let Dream use him as a pillow, he began to wonder when he'd be awake. With extreme caution, he slowly moved out of George's hold, intending to get up and make breakfast as a thanks. Part of him hoped he'd manage to pull it off before George awoke, but each little noise seemed multiplied tenfold.

He snuck into the kitchen, searching for frying pans to make scrambled eggs and bacon in. Once located, he began to cook, praying the loud sizzle of bacon wouldn't wake the other up.

George, however, was nothing if not the best damn sleeper in the world. Oblivious to the world and the delicious noises sizzling away in the kitchen, he slept on.

Dream noticed this with amusement, rather relieved that the loud kitchen noises somehow didn't awaken the other. He finished cooking not long after, making them each a plate of food and setting it down on the coffee table, leaving briefly to grab two glasses of water to accompany their meals before finally attempting to wake the brunet boy passed out on his couch. "George...?" He whispered, gently tapping the brunet.

George began stirring with a few drowsy grumbles but his never fluttered open, as though his body was resisting all attempts to be woken up. But before Dream could try and wake him up again, Patches seemed to understand his attempts and hopped onto George, pattering up and down his body before eventually settling down on his chest, pawing and batting at his face, yowling for his attention. "Huh- Wh-?" George sat up, mildly alarmed as he shoved his assailant away only to see Patches and Dream standing there. He had the decency to look embarrassed and rub Patches defensively as he straightened up. "Good morning. I can't believe you actually let me fall asleep here.”

"Well, it was late, and Patches and I like your company," Dream smiled as he spoke, moving to sit beside George on the couch. He motioned to the plates, explaining, "I made breakfast. Hope you like bacon and eggs. If not, we can go get you donuts or something."

"" _Donuts or something"_." George mimicked sarcastically with a lighthearted grin. "What an American breakfast." He teased before drinking in the sight of the food before him. The teasing ended pretty soon after the smell of bacon hit him and he was on the verge of salivating from it. "This is more than fine. It looks good, thanks." And with that said, he ate to confirm his suspicions.

The food was more than good; it was amazing. Still, Dream was watching him closely, too eager to see if the other would like the simple breakfast to begin eating his own plate of food. As soon as George finished the first bite, he questioned, "What d'you think?"

George didn't respond, he was too busy shoving in another mouthful, savoring the flavor. He nodded as he chewed, showing his appreciation. Patches looked between the two and meowed in a begging with cute kitty eyes, trying to get some of the delicious food out of one of them.

Dream let out a light, relieved laugh as he watched the other enjoy the meal. Seeing Patches' cute kitty eyes, he threw a grabbed chunk of his scrambled eggs and offered it to her, petting her head gently as she took it. Then, he finally began eating, curious to see if the meal was actually that good or if George simply had low standards. Or both.

George finished the breakfast within moments, relishing the breakfast before turning to Dream. "Thank you for the breakfast, and sorry again for falling asleep here. After the movie I tried to get up but the rain started dumping down... and you were on top of me, refusing to move..." His somewhat apologetic look turned sheepishly happy. "I guess now I know what "cuddling with the homies" is like."

"Nah, no need to apologize. I asked you to stay. Besides, I'd rather not make my friends go home alone late at night. Speaking of which, I can drive you back whenever you're done?" Dream offered with a dorky grin, still in the process of finishing his breakfast.

George pulled out his phone, flinching at the time and amazed how long he'd managed to stay asleep on a couch. He didn't dare ponder for how long of that Dream had been on him. "That sounds good, I have to go get ready to open the shop soon, anyway. Oh! That reminds me I forgot to give you something last night."

Dream tilted his head like an intrigued puppy, like he had last night, and questioned, "What's up?" Pulling out his own phone out of curiosity, he checked the time, feeling rather guilty for how long his clinginess had forced George to stay over.

George left Dream on the couch to finish his breakfast and went over to his coat and pulled out a tiny parcel. He brought it back, delicately handling the item as he handed it over. "It's no rushed key lime pie so hopefully it should taste better. I'm actually glad I didn't choose anything creamy or fruity or it'd be ruined by now. Consider this seafoam a thank you for the dinner. I guess you do make up for your lack of baking talent for a certain finesse in the kitchen."

Dream lifted an eyebrow, looking over the dessert with intrigue. "Can't say I've tried this before," He admitted, adding, "but if it's somehow better than your pie, I'm certain I'll enjoy it. Thank you." Grabbing the dessert carefully, he placed it by his plate, making a mental note to bring it to the kitchen before Patches attempted to steal it.

"If you ever want another dinner by Gordon Ramsey's number one rival - me, of course - let me know, alright? We could go to your place next time, or I could bring more friends over. Or, if you'd like, we can simply do something just like we did last night. Either way, text me any time," Dream spoke teasingly for the first half, though his voice turned sincere at the end. "Now, should I drive you home, or would you rather go straight to the shop?"

George let out a sharp laugh. "Oh god no, I need a shower and maybe a quick nap on a real bed. No offense to your very lovely couch and my very comfy human blanket. Besides, you can see my crappy little apartment compared to your _playboy mansion_. I don't know how well I'd deal with people I don't know, but if it's to have some more of your food, I guess I could deal with it." His tone is playful, jesting and lighthearted as a glint in his eye and crook in his smile tells Dream he's not entirely serious. About the heckling, anyway.

“Wh- _playboy mansion_?" Dream wheezed out, followed by choked laughter. "Don't worry, I'll start off slow with the boys. You can meet my best friend next class, and after that I can show you the rest of the "homies". After all, the only thing better than cuddling with a homie is cuddling in a pile with _all_ of the homies, and it's up to me to show that to you." He spoke like he was doing some great deed by even _offering_ for a cuddle session, sounding even more boastful of it than he had been of his car or his culinary skills.

A couple minutes of moving plates and stashing dessert away later, Dream had his keys in his pocket and was midway through putting his shoes on. It felt rather disappointing to be taking his new friend home, like the end of a play date between two kids, but he knew it had to be done. He couldn't just _kidnap_ George, although it appeared that was what Patches desired. She let out loud, pitiful meows, pawing harmlessly at George's legs any time he moved for his shoes.

George laughed as he gently batted away Patches' paws every time, trying harder and faster to get at his shoes. "Come on, Patches." Eventually he gave up, rubbing between her ears and watching as her small round eyes closed in favor of pushing up against his palm once more. George's palm appeared to be a quickly growing favorite spot of hers. He took the moment to stealthily grab his shoes with the other hand while she wasn't looking. When he lifted his hand and her eyes opened, they fell upon the shoes. She looked up to George with a sorrowful look of betrayal, only causing him to chuckle again. "Sorry, girl. Gotta go." True to his word, the shoes were on and he slipped out the door within a matter of minutes.

Dream shot an apologetic look at Patches, assuring her, "I'll be back soon, pretty kitty," before slipping out after George. He then turned the apologetic look to the brunet, somewhat embarrassed of Patches' clinginess at the end of their hang out. However, he said nothing on the topic, simply leading the other to his car. The ride was quiet, though not awkward, filled with music of Dream's choice and teasing remarks from George.  


* * *

  
Once he arrived at the apartment complex, he stopped outside of the front, curious of what George's apartment looked like but deciding that could definitely wait for another day. Instead, he waved a goodbye to his new friend, waiting until he was inside before driving off and contemplating the previous day's events.

By the time he arrived home, he found that he had a missed call from Sapnap, as well as about 5 missed messages. The youngest was pestering him for a gaming session, and he definitely wasn't about to deny that. However, he decided to keep his phone nearby, in case a text from George came his way.

As Dream boots up Minecraft to go play with Sapnap, a ding pulls his attention away.

George  
  
so what do i put you in my phone as now:  
  
cute blond guy that i just met  
  
or Gordon Ramsey's #1 Rival  
  
How about Gordon Ramsey's cute blond rival?  
  


Dream let out a snort at the message, ignoring Sapnap's questions of what he'd found so funny.  
  


* * *

Dream  
  
so what do i put you in my phone as now:  
  
cute blond guy that i just met  
  
or Gordon Ramsey's #1 Rival  
  
How about Gordon Ramsey's cute blond rival?  
  
hmmm but then it just sounds like you and Gordon Ramsey have something going on  
  
:O dont tell me  
  
youve decided to experiment with Gordon Ramsey?????  
  


George couldn't help but hover his finger over the send button before actually sending the message. It was a clever quip (in his opinion) but Dream had also been a little out of it last night. 

Oh well, the joke was hilarious and Dream probably agreed. That, and the message was vague enough to not actually allude to much deeper meaning.

Dream  
  
XD I mean hey, with clout like that?? Who wouldn't tbh  
  
u right  
  
so what is Mr. Gordon Ramsey's sexy blond rival doing now?  
  
Gaming with the homies, hbu?  
  
definitely not taking the time to text some celebrity's side bae while avoiding bad at work during the slow hours  
  
definitely  
  
Of course, of course.  
  
Well this sexy blond side bae is glad to keep you company while you definitely don't avoid your boss, as long as you don't snitch on me if you get caught.  
  
of course im gonna snitch on you  
  
youre my scape goat asshole  
  
im mean not like im actually gonna get caught lol  
  


George glanced up just in time to see Bad fixing him with a nasty glare.

Oh shit  
  
"Not like I'm actually gonna get caught lol"  
  
But fr tho, use me or Patches as an excuse or smthn. Say she got sick when you came over and you were checking on how she's doing idk  
  


"Uh, hi, Bad!" George started cheerfully, glancing down at his screen for help. "I was just, um, checking up on a friend's cat. Oh, you know him actually. The really platonic friend I made during your baking class remember?" He hoped that if the cat didn't work, the potential prospect of another person in their friend group ~~or George's love life would~~. He snuck in another text before Bad could answer him,

Dream  
  
I DONT THIBJ IT WOKRED  
  


Bad gave a skeptical glare at the boy's excuse, remaining silent for a few moments before saying. "Are you _absolutely sure that's what you're doing_?" He questioned, as if giving the boy a chance to come clean. In reality, he had no clue if that was true or not, though George definitely seemed suspiciously nervous.

DEDICATE. DEDICATE!! GO WITH IT DUDE. I'LL EVEN SEND A PIC OF PATCHES IF YOU NEED  
  
DO IT  
  
[](https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/dream_team/images/b/bd/Patches_4.jpeg)  
  


George nodded, standing from the little footstool he had been sitting down on to show Bad his screen, hastily clicking on the image Dream had sent. He'd barely bothered to check if it was Patches but he had full confidence in Dream.

The picture was hastily sent, and was simply the first one he could find. It was a closeup of the cat's face, in which she looked rather confused. 

Bad raised his eyebrow, wondering what the closeup was supposed to prove, but assumed it proved something. He was more of a dog person anyways; he didn't know what a sick cat looked like. "Oh.. uh... hope they get- better? Is your boyfriend alright?"

George pulled back the phone and spared the messages a glance, appreciating the cuteness as well as checking whatever Dream had sent afterwards.

I'M SORRY THAT'S THE FIRST I SAW  
  


George let out an embarrassed huff. "I get the memo, Bad. I'll clean the counters even though no one's here. You don't have to rub it in that he's not my boyfriend." Sneakily he shot back a quick text,

Crisis averted 😎  
  
You definitely owe Patches a ton of hugs for this  
  


Bad simpered, nodding approvingly at what George said as he walked off.

Pretty sure you owe me some too  
  


George rolled his eyes at the messages with a smile.

Owe you hugs for a shitty close up picture of poor traumatized patches?  
  
I'll be sure to give her tons, but you'll have to make your case more compelling 😌  
  


  


* * *

  
"DREAMMM!!!!" Screamed Sapnap, completely oblivious to whatever the hell Dream was doing. He let out an angry exhale as the creak of his desktop chair could be heard, probably leaning back in frustration. "Dream, we would've had that game if you didn't throw. What the hell's with your attention today, man? It's totally shot."

"Huh- oh, we lost. You shouldn't have pushed anyways, not my fault," Dream huffed, though he was completely aware it was definitely his fault. "And I'm texting someone. Someone from that baking class you ditched me at."

George  
  
I gave you the excuse AND a picture. Preeeetty sure you owe me here :P  
  
Plus I'm hella cute so hugs from me are premium  
  


"Oh?" And in one single syllable, it was clear that Sapnap's attention was no longer on the game, the smug tone fully fixed on Dream. "Texting _someone_ , huh, Dreammieee?" He lilted in a sing songy voice, somewhat teasing. "I can't believe me not being there worked, I'm just the greatest wing man ever, what can I say?" He chuckled, clicking them into another lobby, hopefully having Dream's attention now.

Hmmm but if you freely give them to all the homies, how premium can they be?  
  


"So how cute is the lucky girl that got to watch you burn water? She must be pretty cute for you to ignore red rushing us."

"Actually, I'm saving _him_ from getting in trouble right now. Granted, I'm the reason he's in trouble, but that's beyond the point. And you're a shit wingman, because I ended up with the only other person there that wasn't interested in dating, so now I've got a homie to replace the ones that _ditch me_ ," Dream light-heartedly chastised Sapnap's method of wingman-ing.

I don't give them to ALL the homies. I cuddle the homies all the time, but that doesn't mean I always hug them. Also, next time we see each other, I'm giving you a big bear hug and you'll totally understand.  
  


Sapnap let out a fake offended gasp. "Replace the homies? Never. Dream, you wouldn't dare. You just gotta introduce me to the homie, then bam, twice the homies with no homies lost." 

He made a small groan of annoyance. "Sad my ingenious wingman attempt didn't work, though. Really, Dream? You couldn't have just done me a favor and realized I left you there so you'd actually go talk to a real living girl and maybe date for once?"

im pretty sure you contradicted yourself like 5 times in one sentence, so I'll just pretend to understand  
  


The little gray dots indicating he was typing flickered on and off, on and off, on and off until they eventually went silent and still.

Sapnap continued his little spiel as he placed wool around his bed. "But nooo, you had to go stand next to a dude, not just any dude, but one that _also_ wasn't looking to date." He started bridging out to the closest diamond generator. "Although I guess that wouldn't matter to you anyway." He added thoughtlessly, picking up the diamonds.

but after last night I guess I have to admit that your hugs are god tier  
  
Knew you'd come around  
  
Also I was saying that CUDDLES happen regularly for me and the homies, but HUGS are more special. You're lucky you're special, or else you'd be apart of the rarely hugged club  
  


"Um, yeah. Haha. Wouldn't matter," Dream mindlessly agreed, feeling somewhat uncomfortable at his own words. "Anyways, I'm saving the girls for your sorry ass. You missed the first day of class, most people already have partners. I was doing you a favor, god knows you'd need the help," He teased somewhat harshly, though it was all in good fun.

Sapnap noticed the weird tone coming from Dream, but couldn't quite place it. He ignored it. "My sorry ass? Sorry, Dreamie. _My sorry ass_ actually got a phone number while I didn't attend that class." He smirked despite knowing Dream couldn't see him. "Unlike you, I don't need a wing man. Also, blue rushing."

Oh?? cuddles are different than hugs??  
  
Im clearly ill educated  
  
I have much to learn, teach me your ways O wise cuddle master  
  
Gladly, O cuddle pupil of mine.  
  


"Oh- on my way," Dream replied, giving his focus to the game for a few moments before returning his attention to the conversations. "I don't need a wing man. I don't care about dating, idiot. You're like... _forcing_ me to accept you as my wing man. Maybe I'd rather my new homie to be my wing man, since he had my back at the class. I'm never letting that go, by the way."

Sapnap scoffed, smacking off one of the closer blue team members, watching in satisfaction as they fell to their death in the void. “Maybe I just care about my bro and wanna see him happy dating someone, even if that means ditching you at a singles baking class so you _actually meet_ someone, Dream. Homies can only take you so far, y'know? If you trust this new homie so much maybe you should just date _him_.” He said mockingly, making exaggerated kissing noises. As if perfectly timed, a new notification dinged from Dream's phone.

Dream  
  
I think I’ll have to book a cuddle/hug session for later to really know the difference.... ;)  
  
But for now gtg back to work, people are actually starting to come back :,(  
  
Awww, bye :(  
  
Also, I'm absolutely down for a session :)  
  


"Maybe I will," Dream sarcastically snapped back, though his voice held more uncertainty and less sarcasm than he intended it to. "That was a joke- don't you dare make any comments about it. I'm rushing," Dream spoke quickly, deciding that some attention on the game would rescue him from any awkward questioning.

“You can’t tell me what to do Dream. You’re not my mom. She’s a lovely woman and you are not. Don’t go for red, they have obby. Blue’s weak though.” Sapnap went back to his menial task of collecting diamonds and other resources as he pondered Dream’s words.

“So tell me about your new boyfriend.” He teased, but his words were cautious, not really ill intended as he tests the water with this unclear new territory they’ve never talked about before.

:)  
  


Dream put down the phone to properly pay attention to his dumbass friend. "Not my boyfriend," he said quickly and firmly, as if defensive about the subject. "But he's cool. He's a really good baker, and totally saved me when I fucked up some brownies. Oh, and he's got the best british accent. It makes him sound so proper," Dream snickered at the end, imagining George's annoyed eye roll at the statement. 

"Um... he's supposedly not a good cook, although he really liked my cooking. I guess he's my culinary partner, since he does the baking when I do the cooking. Ooooh, he made the _best_ pie, and you don't get any of it." Dream felt as if he could ramble forever about George, but he knew he was embarrassing himself enough by how much he'd spoken already. So he went quiet after the last statement, pretending to be focused on their game.

Sapnap couldn’t help the sinking feeling that the description sounded vaguely familiar. “I don’t like pie, anyway.” He bragged, breaking blue’s bed. “I’m more about that _cake_.” He called out suggestively, laughing at his own innuendo as he flung himself into the void and watched the words victory fill his screen.

"You're such an idiot." Dream rolled his eyes, though his grin was very obvious in his voice. "Anyways, you should go to the next class. I want you two to meet."

“Hmmm I dunno, Dream. Sounds like you and your new “homie” need some alone time.” Sapnap responded easily, trying to make simple excuses for the little ball of dread settling at the bottom of his stomach. He clicked into a new game as he makes a whine “And what if that girl calls me back? Hoes over bros, bro. Sorry.” He chortled, running back to collect iron and gold.

"Oh, HELL no. Bros over hoes every time. You signed me up for a _baking class_ , the least you can do is actually show up. Besides, I can ask the teacher to let you work with me and my partner, since he and I are probably the only ones not there for a date."

“And what about _meee_ , Dream? Think of the cute girls. I’ll go, because I love you and shit. But I refuse to third wheel.” At this point he knew his excuse was pathetic, lame and wasn’t very in character of him, but he could shake the feeling that he was on the brink of trying to avoid something much worse.

Dream was quiet for a few moments, trying to figure out what had Sapnap acting to weird. Usually, he supported the homies over everything else. However, he shrugged it off, eventually saying, "As long as you go."

The game went poorly and quietly with the occasional callout, both boys too deep in thought and uneasy silence to really play or talk properly. The gaming session came to a close with a begrudging sigh from Sapnap. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the community center, Dream.”

With a somewhat awkward farewell, Dream left the call, hoping that an introduction to George would change Sapnap's reluctance to join. He ended up going to bed not too long after, shooting a quick but affectionate goodnight text to George before laying down. It felt nice to finally sleep in a bed after he'd slept on the couch, and it seemed that Patches enjoyed the comfier spot too, though she was still pouting about George.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D-dwop a kudos? qwq 🥺
> 
> \- trivialtrash
> 
> I do not condone this.
> 
> -JunoNotFound


	5. Never Have I Ever Burnt Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sapnap attends class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our first real taste of pain! :D

The next day, Dream could hardly wait for the class. 

He dressed up nicely, using the same cologne he'd used for their hangout, and arrived rather early to the center. Despite the peculiar tension from their gaming session, he was hopeful that George and Sapnap would get along. 

By the time he got to the class, he was surprised to find that he was the first one there, aside from Bad and Skeppy. Awkwardly, he took a seat, staring at the door in hopes that someone would walk in and save him from a conversation about not texting George at work.

Despite his hopes, Bad seemed to be heading his way, with an exasperated thin lipped look that radiated stern disappointed mother energy that could wilt any guilty child. Thankfully he was spared from any actual interaction by a familiar voice calling out from the door. 

"Dream!" A grinning Sapnap stood there, waving as he came closer. Sapnap spared a glance at Bad, who returned the gesture. Sapnap narrowed his eyes in familiar confusion, Bad's face doing something similar before recognition seemed to click and he hurriedly went back to Skeppy at the front as his face paled.

"Sapnap! You came!" Dream exclaimed excitedly, relief flooding through him at the sight of his younger friend. He caught the weird shared glance between the duo, but said nothing about it, simply waving the other over. "Oh man, I was worried you weren't gonna come."

"Of course I came, I'm gonna steal all of the dessert you make AND get at least three phone numbers. It's going to be awesome." He paused, his distraction getting to him as he glanced back towards the front and at Bad. "I feel like I've met that guy before..." he trailed off, eyes on Bad again as the man in question is whispering something to Skeppy, who has a bored unimpressed expression from whatever's being whispered into his ear. 

"Whatever, I'm just ready to bake. I'm going to show up your dessert, just wait and see."

"Hm... well I know you used to hit up bakeries a lot, and he runs one. Maybe you bought something from him at one point?" Dream suggested, following with, "Also, good luck with that. I've got the best guy in the class as my partner, and he managed to save  _ my _ brownies. Anyone who can do that is automatically the best."

"Oh shit, wait, that's Bad isn't it." Sapnap said, wide eyed ignoring any other comment Dream made. 

It's much less of a question than it is an utterance of his worst fears coming realized. 

Of all the social situations Sapnap managed to drag himself into, attending a class with his best friend with his ex's boss had to be the worst. "Wait, Dream, what did you say your partner's name was-"

"Hey Dream!" 

Scratch that. 

This had to be the worst.

"Hey George!" Dream exclaimed, a wide grin on his face. However, that grin fell into a confused frown at the boy's reaction to Sapnap. He turned to face the youngest, who had a poor poker face of his own.

George's face did many things when he saw Sapnap, rapidly flickering through a series of emotions; hurt, anger, affection, sadness, regret, irritation before settling into a muted fury barely concealed behind cold eyes and crossed arms. 

"Sapnap." George greeted, voice level.

"George. You're Dream's partner?" Sapnap questioned, though it was more of a surprised statement if anything. Dread bubbled in him-an avoided past catching up to him much sooner than he was prepared for.

"So...." Dream trailed off, searching for the right words to defuse the situation. He failed to find those words, instead saying, "You two know each other?"

George hated this. Hated being unable to run. Hated Bad for forcing him to come to this stupid this. Hated Sapnap. Hated life for its cruel irony and twist in the gut with its sharpened blade. 

"You could say that." George said, everything inside him telling him to run, to keep avoiding this and preserve this new good thing in his life without ruining it with his past. 

Another, more sensible, part of his brain told him he couldn't keep avoiding Sapnap. Especially not if he wanted to retain whatever friendship he had with Dream. 

That being said, it was pretty apparent that Sapnap hadn't said anything about him.  _ 'Typical _ .' he thought.

"It's been a while." George commented, his eyes searching Sapnap's to see some sort of reaction.

"Well that's a pretty ironic thing to say," Sapnap began bitterly, an unamused frown on his face, "all things considered." 

He felt so many emotions all at once; anger, frustration, guilt, anxiety, shame - it was overwhelming. He looked over at their mutual friend, who looked like a child watching his parents argue. 

With a sigh, Sapnap explained, "Dream, George is my ex."

"Wait- what- aren't you straight?" Dream questioned, glancing rapidly between the two. He could've  _ sworn  _ Sapnap had said he was straight a million times.

"Yep. I realized that," Now Sapnap simply sounded guilty and tired, as if his energy had already been drained despite arriving only a few minutes ago.

" _ Oh _ ," Dream responded softly.

"Yeah, you  _ realized  _ that," George repeated, unable to keep the anger from bubbling into his voice, "about two months into dating me. And don't go on about irony to me,  _ Sapnap _ . If I could, I probably never would've wanted to see your face again." 

George spat his name like an insult, his voice rising in volume and slowly losing the calm facade he'd been trying to maintain.

Faintly, alarm bells were warning George to shut up and walk away, make up some pretty little excuse to Bad and never talk to either of them again. Or at the very least, step out of the room to cool off. 

But anger had a funny way of intoxicating a person and leading them to make dumb choices. He had the decency to feel ashamed of his behavior at least, probably ruining his reputation and friendship he had built with Dream over the past few days.

"You  _ knew  _ I was just questioning! I was completely transparent about that! And I'm  _ sorry  _ that I hurt you, I really really am, but ghosting me? Blowing up at me the moment you see me? Really?" Sapnap exclaimed, his face flushing in anger and embarrassment. 

He  _ hated  _ making a big scene in public, let alone around Dream.

Speaking of the boy, Dream was dead silent, aside from occasionally letting out a quiet " _ Um- _ " to try to get their attention to no avail. He felt rather guilty for the situation at hand, as the one who'd assured they'd both be here. He looked up at Bad and Skeppy, praying that at least one of them would intervene before he had to.

George could feel the shame mixing in with his anger but it did little to deter him. "I needed time, Sapnap! And space! You're really going to go after me about ghosting you after you left me in pieces? I think I have some right to be angry after you villainize me trying to moving on from your-" before he could let loose a string of what would probably be a series of angry insults and swears, Bad decided now would be a wonderful time to step in and divert the room's attention from the yelling match taking place. 

"Okay! I think, we're uh, ready to get started! If everyone could please pair off into groups of  _ two _ ." Bad said, pointedly looking at George and Sapnap who were glaring daggers at each other, red cheeked and furious.

Dream shot a grateful look at Bad, before turning to the youngest. "How about you go buddy up with her? She looks like your type," He suggested, pointing to a rather cute brunette. Sapnap muttered under his breath, but obliged with Dream's suggestion.

Then, Dream turned to George, biting his lip and contemplating his words. After a rather awkward pause, he muttered out, "Um.. sorry about... all of that."

George buried his face in his hands. Embarrassment catching up to him."I don't know why you're apologizing.  _ I'm  _ sorry. It was just... sudden. Somehow it makes sense that he's your..." he paused delicately. He said the next words with caution, making sure he didn't sound hostile as he said it. ""Jerk best friend"?" George ended with a question, looking to Dream sheepishly as if to ask for confirmation.

"For his credit, he did have good intentions abandoning me here, and he is the reason I met you!" Dream began optimistically, though his tone fell as he admitted, "But, yeah, he is. I had no clue that all of that stuff happened between you two, or that he ever questioned his sexuality."

"I don't really blame him." George admitted in a huff, lowering his voice as Bad began explaining what they would be doing in the background. "I mean, I do. But I know that sexuality isn't something you can decide, and he always kept it down low - probably a sign if I'm honest. I just...." he hesitated, looking around the room to see Sapnap happily flirting away with some girl who seemed to be happily reciprocating the advances. 

"I really liked him and he was my first real relationship. He broke my heart and I still can't help but feel like it was my fault sometimes." He stared only for a moment longer before turning back to Dream. His tone hardened, "I just can't believe that asshole is angry at me for not answering him when I needed space."

"Well, I definitely don't know everything that happened, but as his friend all I can say is that I know he's the type of person that likes to fix an issue as soon as it arises. If he doesn't fix it, he gets frustrated. That's probably why he's upset at the lack of response. Not blaming you, of course - just giving you a possible explanation. Also, it's not your fault. Him realizing that he was straight isn't anyone's fault, right? That's the whole point of experimenting. Doesn't make it suck any less though," Dream rambled, not quite sure if what he said made much sense but hoping it at least offered comfort.

"I know,  _ I know _ . It  _ really _ doesn't make it any less shit." He groaned, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He let out a final huff before faintly tuning in to Bad's words and looking at the paper in curiosity of what they'd have to make.

Dream paused, contemplating his next action. They could keep talking things out and going in circles endlessly. They could move on in awkward silence and pretend nothing happened. Or...

"Hey George, do you remember what I promised to give you? When we were texting?"

George looked up from the paper at Dream in confusion. "Huh?" He was almost tempted to make some clever quip but he wasn't in the mood to try and recall what he meant or make a funny jibe at Dream.

Dream let out a light chuckle, moving in closer to the smaller boy before finally elaborating, "Pretty sure I promised a big hug next time we saw each other and, this may come as a surprise to you, but i'm rather certain we're seeing each other right now. So... you wanna cash in on that Deluxe Dream Hug(tm)?"

George's eyes widened as the spiraling train of negative thoughts halted. He was happy for the distraction, but he felt conflicted. 

Casting a quick glance over to Sapnap he couldn't help but feel guilty, either to Dream for almost using him as a way to get back at Sapnap or to Sapnap for "stealing" away his best friend. 

He shut down those thoughts too, all thoughts really, as his cheeks flushed a nice shade of pink and he nodded. 

It was just a hug. No malicious intent, no strings attached or something more expected from him. Just the comfort of touch from another human being. It sounded nice. 

"Sure..."

An excited smile covered Dream's lips, a flush of his own slowly spreading across his cheeks. Reaching out, he carefully wrapped the oldest in his arms, pulling the boy flush against him though not holding on too tight. It was a warm embrace, and it made his heart flutter in ways he couldn't quite describe.

The hug was bittersweet as George's own heart soared too before being slapped down by reality. He had to admit, as he was enveloped in Dream's arms in a less horizontal position, his hugs were phenomenal. But Sapnap was just a reminder of who not to fall for. And seeing him today made the wound fresh and the lesson re-learnt. He refused to have Dream be the next Sapnap. Although he guessed that wouldn't be a problem since Dream wouldn't fall for him. George just had to keep his own feelings in check.  _ Homie mode. Homie mode. Homie mode _ ... the two words became a mantra in his head as he leaned into the hug.

Dream held him close for a few moments, noticing the hesitance but not saying anything. He then pulled away, flashing his usual dorky smile at the boy, before turning his attention to the recipe they were to make. "You still wanna help me out with this?" He questioned.

George looked down, quickly scanning over the words as his face melted into a smile. 

Sugar couldn't hurt him. 

Well, diabetes would disagree, but sugar couldn't hurt him emotionally.

"Chocolate chip cookies! Easy and fun to make, I bet even you could make this pretty well without my help." He gave Dream a reassuring glance. "Not that I'll set you free in front of an oven without me."

"Right. Cookies. Impossible to screw up," Dream agreed with very, very obviously faked confidence. He read over the recipe a millions times, squinting as if there were some fine print instructions he was attempting to locate. Then, with a softly murmured " _ what _ ?", he got to work, having absolutely no clue what he was doing.

George watched, half amused, half concerned while Dream floundered. He eventually stopped him as Dream was about to pour half a bottle of vanilla into the batter. He grabbed at Dream's wrist in alarm, laughing out an admonished "Dream!"

"Is- is this wrong??" Dream questioned, stopping just before the vanilla came out. "I could've sworn this is what it said. What?"

"Have you ever heard of measuring things? I know in cooking you can just  _ wing it _ , but if you put that much vanilla in you're gonna end up with gross puddles that have chocolate chips swimming in them." George giggled, as he gently guided Dream's arm away from the mixing bowl.

Dream gave no protests as George moved his arm, simply huffing and whining, "Why's baking so precise anyways? Cooking's way more fun, you just go with whatever feels right once you know the recipe. Why can't this be a single's  _ cooking _ class?" That seemed to give him an idea, though, as his eyes widened and a bright smile spread across his lips. 

"Next time you come over, I could give you a cooking lesson!" He suggested, already imagining the different dishes he could teach George how to make.

George was honestly a little surprised Dream still wanted any sort of contact with him after the little fiasco at the beginning of class, half expecting to never hear from Dream again. 

A small voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Sapnap snarled back, " _ He's not you, after all. _ " He shoved down the conniving self doubt and virulent thoughts and forced a smile. George nodded, trying his best to not let the anxiety and self-hatred swirling inside show. 

"I don't know if you'll be able to make a chef out of me, but I suppose if I can teach you why baking is so "precise" and make a baker out of you, maybe it won't be impossible. And that precision is only there because more competent people experimented to figure out good ratios of shit to put in their baked delicacies."

"Wh- more  _ competent _ people? What's that supposed to mean?" The taller asked in faux offense, though the ghost of a grin was evident in his expression. He glanced back over at the measurements, trying to read it all, but finding himself quite bored by the time he got halfway through. Cursing his damn short attention span, he looked around for the measuring cups of what he could remember, which wasn't much.

George watched, crossing his arms in amusement and raising an eyebrow as he watched Dream grab the wrong ingredients and wrong measurements of almost everything. It was almost a miracle how bad he was at this. 

"Yes. I was going to say more competent than either of us but you're suddenly making me feel better about my own abilities. Experimenting with baking is hard and sometimes dangerous, but whatever you seem to be concocting over there seems to be way more hazardous than anything I could imagine." His tone was light and airy as he teased Dream, almost as if the words were facading as a compliment.

Dream gave another huff at the light-hearted insults. "I'm  _ trying _ , okay? It's just so..." He finished the sentence with a soft whine, unable to find the words to describe his struggles. 

His focus was everywhere  _ but  _ here, jumping from their future hangouts to his next conversation to Sapnap to his next meal to what he'd make for Christmas dinner to-

Yeah. He couldn't focus. Nonetheless, his eyes held a determined glare as he turned what little attention he had back to the instructions, deciding to go one measurement at a time. For the first time in possibly forever, he grabbed the right ingredient. He definitely added too much of it, however, it wasn't terribly over the amount he was supposed to have added.

"Ah yes, just so-" George made a noise mocking Dream's whines. "I completely understand, of course. Here, if you just do this and collect the tool before the ingredient and line them all up, then it'll be less-" he made another, different noise mimicking his whine as he shifted things in front of Dream to help sort through the recipe and ingredients as he followed. He checked into Dream's bowl, nodding as he ensured the contents weren't on fire or already looking unsafe for human consumption.

"You're so mean to me," Dream pouted, flashing those same puppy eyes from their hang out at George. It wasn't quite clear what he was begging for; honestly, he wasn't sure himself. Still, he held a deep, puppy-like pout from all of the mockery, although the corners of his lips occasionally twitched as he held back a grin. He decided then that maybe baking wasn't so bad, as long as he was stuck doing it with a cute, mean boy, who helped him prevent his dishes from catching on fire.

George laughed nervously, feeling his heart speed up and his brain go empty at the sweet expression. He quickly looked away with a cough, indignantly claiming, "I'm not mean! I'm just agreeing with you  _ and _ helping you! See? Super nice." He continued measuring his own ingredients and peeking over to make sure Dream hadn't somehow confused the salt and sugar or something else exceptionally stupid that George was sure he was capable of.

Dream murmured in disagreement, turning his attention to the measurements he was putting into his bowl, doing his absolute best to pour it in the intended order. Although George had literally done almost all of the work, his lips held a rather large smile as he stared down at his semi-success.

George couldn't help but smile alongside him as he gazed at the progress. "I guess we'll have to mark you down as Martha Stewart's rival as well." he remarked jokingly, although his tone and words were soft, pride bubbling up in his voice.

"Oh man, Martha's got nothing on this batter," Dream joked back, turning to face George. The sight of his smile brought a small flush to Dream's face, who ignored the feeling of warmth as he asked, "What do we do now?"

George rolled his eyes, no real exasperation apparent in the action. He crossed his arms with a teasing smile, remarking, "you know you have a piece of paper in front of you that tells you, right? Tsk, and you were doing so good, too."

Dream let out a light chuckle in response, glancing over at the paper then back at George. "Hm, that's true, but what if I just wanted to hear your voice?" His tone was light, almost teasing, but not quite. There was a certain warmth in his voice, accompanied by a shy smile on his lips, that revealed he was at least being half serious.

George's brain short circuited, really he should be used to it. Dream was just an affectionate person, and a playful one at that. But as the warmth filled his cheeks and he was pretty sure they were rosying into a nice bright red, he quickly looked away, embarrassed at how easily affected he was by the stupid words. 

Rather than giving some scathing comeback that would hide his reaction, he just grabbed the papers and shoved his face into them, robotically reading off the next steps. "'Make coin sized dollaps of the dough onto a cookie pan, make sure that they are at least 1.5" apart'."

Dream couldn't help but laugh at the boy's reaction, biting back a teasing comment as he followed the instructions the best he could. The dollaps of dough were definitely a bit bigger than they should've been, but it wasn't big enough to cause an issue.

George stealthily cut off excess dough while Dream looked away, spacing them out a little and positioning them so they’d come out mostly perfect cookies that wouldn’t stick together. 

George didn’t often bake with others, the sole exceptions being Bad when they were in a crunch to finish orders or stock their shelves on busier days or, he recalled more tender, soft moments with his mother as she would show him how to scoop out the dough with a spoon and form little spheres of chocolatey goodness, he had been entranced by the magic and in those moments felt closer to his mother than any gift or kind words of affirmation could ever create. 

As Dream and he prepped the cookies, it felt similar although something was inherently very different as his heart fluttered when they’d accidentally brush wrists and he’d mumble out a sorry before rushing away to go get more dough. Something different in how even as he retreated, he would look back and see Dream smiling dotingly after him, the smile only brightening when they locked eyes. 

He was such an idiot. 

They both were. 

“Alright, now all we have to do is throw it in the oven and wait.” The smile did nothing to slow his heart, so he kept his voice level and face neutral, praying Dream didn’t somehow have X-ray vision to his heart.

Dream grabbed their pans, bringing them to the preheated oven and placing them side by side. After closing the oven door, he pulled himself up onto the counter, dangling his legs and flashing a lazy grin at George. However, despite his relaxed composure, his heart was racing a million miles a minute, thinking back to the last time they were waiting by the oven together. 

_ "Yeah, you know what you like? Well then what do you think of this?" _ played in his head on repeat, and he felt mild regret over it. Flirting was all fun and games with friends, but that was their  _ first _ day interacting with one another. 

At least George didn't seem too done with his dumb, flirtatious personality just yet. "So what game are we playing today, Georgie?" He questioned, following it with an inquisitive hum.

"Hmmm, didn't I pick last time? You pick." George stated, not really in a suggesting tone, but rather a commanding tone as he stared into the oven to make sure the cookies hadn't decided to roam off or spontaneously catch fire.

Dream gave a thoughtful hum, considering their options for a few moments. "How about... a rematch to our last Never Have I Ever game? You mentioned wanting one, even though I won fair and square."

George stood from his gazing, an indignant look on his face as he stared at Dream in disbelief. "You can't be serious. You cheated, Dream. I totally deserve that rematch." He argued before his face took on a smile more akin to a smirk than one of soft heartfelt intentions. "Besides, I'm definitely going to win this time. You can't cheat like last time. I'm prepared."

"Yeah? You're prepared? Pfft, in that case, you can go first. Be prepared to lose, though," Dream chuckled, though the confident smirk on the brunet's face sent a shiver of dread down his spine. Was he about to regret the bragging? Maybe. Nonetheless, he began to mentally prepare for whatever came next with the same lazy grin.

"Alright," George said, the smug look still on his face, "never have I ever gone skinny dipping." He paused for a moment to analyze Dream looking him up and down before adding, "You seem like the type."

Dream stammered out in shock for a few moments, before silently lowering a finger. "Look- when someone you really like asks you to go skinny dipping,  _ you don't say no _ . That's one of life's simplest rules, and I'd never break that rule." He then fell quiet again, his cheeks heating in embarrassment, before quickly firing back, "Never have I ever gotten blackout drunk."

George lowered a finger, scoffing and looking away in shame. "College sucked, had to get through it somehow. Somehow I wound up being at the biggest senior beer bash extreme where drinks kept finding their way into my hand right before finals. Let's just say I didn't show up to my culinary final. The type where we had to do a physical preparation of something you'd find in a five course meal..." He trailed off, deep in thought as he looked at the ceiling. 

"Although I was failing that class anyway so I don't think I would've done much better at the final even if I had showed up." He shrugged and a nonchalant smile filling his face again. 

"Oh well, I graduated regardless. Only my poor taste buds have to deal with me never learning to cook right. And maybe you can save them." He laughed before going back to musing, trying to come up with things Dream has probably done before. George's face lit up and he said, more in a question than a certain statement, "Never have I ever gone surfing?"

Dream gave a cocky laugh, not lowering any of his fingers. "Just because I'm a Floridian doesn't mean I've gone surfing, silly. The ocean's a scary place, no way in hell I'd ever go surfing out there," He elaborated, proud to be in the lead again. The determined glint from their previous game was slowly making its way back into his eyes as he thought of what to say for his turn. "Never have I ever.... been arrested?"

George laughed, amazed Dream would even ask him. Did he really seem like the type to bake muffins, frost cakes and commit crime? He smiled, shaking his head at dream as his four fingers remained standing. "No, what were you thinking, idiot? Bad would never hire someone with an arrest record." Despite the insult, the tone was jovial and seemed less like a scornful jibe and more of a pet name almost. He regarded Dream again trying to think of a question, and thought back to the booze question, he could work along those lines. 

He thought hard about the few things he hadn't ruined his body with in the past. "Never have I ever done a body shot."

"I was just trying to get some context for that handcuff question from last game," Dream defended with a teasing smirk as he lowered his finger, down to three left up. "Never have I ever stalked an ex-partner on some sort of social media."

George stilled, letting his eyes flash over to Sapnap for only the briefest of moments before settling back down on Dream. He let his embarrassment and guilt wash over him as he lowered a finger. He was silent as he let Dream put the pieces together and refused to elaborate further. 

He didn't want to start spilling about how countless nights he'd open instagram and scroll to Sapnap's account, finger hovering over the like button before he closed the app without touching a thing. 

No comment, no like, no bookmark. 

Just George lamenting at what could've been as he angrily tried to forget the man's face... 

Although that was hard to do when he kept going back to look at it every other night. The feelings had long since cooled from passion or even anger into a muted grudge, nothing especially exciting or fun to discuss in an otherwise fun game. 

He thought about his many exploits as well as his bucket list, might as well draw from that, right? "Never have I ever had a threesome."

Dream was contemplating what to say to calm George down, assure him it was fine or normal - maybe even pretend like he couldn't piece it together. However, when George asked his question, he quite literally choked on his own breath. Stammering out a million different excuses, he slowly lowered a finger, his face bright red. "Wh- I- um- never have I ever used like- whipped cream or something, but like, sexually. You're a baker, do bakers use ingredients for sexual... stuff?"

George would have half a mind to be offended... If he hadn't absolutely done that. College was hard, some things were harder. He let out a sigh before admitting "What can I say, in college when your broke ass is feeling like it needs relief... well as a baking and pastry student, I had a lot of ingredients and shit laying around and not a whole lot else." He looked to Dream and figured he wouldn't have a lot of experience in the backdoor department, he figured he should offer some sage advice. "I don't actually recommend it by the way, the texture is phenomenal but the fear of getting an infection is not. Dumb decisions are meant for college and college alone. Also, this is just me being a stupid idiot, this is not most bakers. I think." George's expression was one of faux seriousness before melting into a laugh and Dream laughed along, even if just a small chuckle of encouragement. 

Then silence filled the air as he thought about another question. Dream's laughter inspired his next question, he thought about the way that the man would laugh until wheezing, making George mildly concerned for his lungs, he wondered... "Have you ever laughed so hard you pissed your pants?"

“Low-fucking-blow, Georgie," Dream muttered, though an embarrassed chuckle revealed he wasn't truly angry as he lowered a finger. "I'm a hard laugher, I was tipsy, and my friends are really funny sometimes. That's all the context you get." Realizing he was on one last finger, with George still holding up two, he furrowed his eyebrows as he brainstormed a question - one that had to get George without being boring. "Never have I ever... hm... roleplayed as some iconic childhood figure during sex. I'm talking, like, Santa level of iconic.”

George flushed pink and lowered a finger, looking away and not even bothering to try and defend himself. He muttered something under his breath that sounded an odd bit like...  _ "easter bunny" _ , Dream would have to find out later. George stared in alarm at his sole finger remaining as he brushed off the effects of the last interrogation into his personal and sex life. 

An idea came to him as he looked back up at Dream and that cocky smile like he knew he was going to win.  _ Well he wouldn't, not today anyway. _ He forced himself to take on an equally confident and smug facade, Dream only had one left, he could do this. 

The smirk rested into his face naturally as an idea came to him. He'd just get his vengeance  _ and _ a win. Dream was screwed. 

George walked up to Dream on the counter, regarding him like a piece of meat ready to be preyed upon. 

He knew his victory was unavoidable, it only made this part all the more sweet. 

George set a hand down besides Dream's thigh, just shy of touching it as he leaned up to talk to Dream, craning his face closer to the man towering above him. 

Normally, this would have undermined the effect of what he was about to do, but as he dropped his last finger in favor of outstretching his hand to gently make its way to the back of Dream's neck, there was an undeniable power in the difference as George pulled his head down towards himself. 

George's hands were cautious at first, ready to pull away at any sign of discomfort, but as Dream willing bowed to his pull, his self-assured grin only grew wider, eyes darkening maliciously. Whispering into Dream's ear he gave the final blow, " _ Never have I ever cheated in a game of Never Have I Ever. _ ” 

Dream's brain had begun short-circuiting the moment George's hand was next to his thigh, and by the time his head was pulled down to be level with the shorter boy, he couldn't process anything but the warm breath gently grazing his ear. The words were spoken so softly yet confidently, slicing through every ounce of composure he had left, and pulling a sharp, shaky inhale from him. 

Not trusting his own voice, he lowered his finger, accepting the loss gladly if it meant staying like  _ this _ for any longer. As he reveled in the contact, a realization came crashing onto him like a tsunami.

There was  _ no  _ way he was straight.

Although there was nothing he'd like to do more than hide away until his usual confident persona was steering the ship again, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the cocky boy who had him completely wrapped around his finger, like a puppy desperate for attention from his owner. 

The touch was like fire, burning him to his very core, but spreading a warmth through his body that he was sure he couldn't live without anymore. 

"George?" He whispered out, his voice shaky and uncertain, though not from anxiety nor discomfort.

George didn't want to pull away. The slight tremble he felt beneath his fingers only made him want to pull Dream down further. 

"Yes, Dreamie?" He asked innocently, blinking his eyelashes as that sunny smile from his victory remained plastered on his face.

The nickname only hit him harder, frying his brain even further than he thought was possible, and causing pathetic stammers and stutters to fall out as he tried to say  _ anything _ . 

Any explanation, or question, or admission, was drowned out by a sea of "um"s and "uh"s. However, before their intimate moment could continue, an awkward throat-clear came from besides them. Dream jolted backwards, remembering that this was happening  _ in front of everyone _ , and pulled away with a bright blush.

"Uh, not to interrupt... whatever this is," Sapnap began, gesturing at the two, "but your cookies are  _ definitely _ starting to burn. Your timer's been going off for, like, two or more minutes now."

George pulled away too, reacting like he had been burned. He felt his skin scorch and his heart singe as he pulled away, shame burning his fingertips as he whirled around to come face to face with Sapnap. George wanted so desperately to cuss him out for interrupting...  _ interrupting what _ ? 

His anger fizzled out as he realized there was nothing to be defensive over. He was just winning a game. 

So then why did he feel so aggravated over having to be torn away from seeing just how much of a stuttering mess he could make Dream. Whatever, he'd think about that later. 

Right now he had an argument to win. "Yeah right, idiot." This time the word was scathing, less affectionate than he used with Dream. Frustration and resentment fueled his words.

"I'm a professional baker and I wouldn't just let my cookies-" the smell of smoke and burnt cookies filled his nose. 

His eyes widened "Oh shit." Looking away from Sapnap, half out of flustered shame and half to actually look at the smoldering lumps of charcoal that now sat on their cookie tray. 

George hastily pulled the pan out, set it on the oven and raced to the window to open it and begin wafting out the acrid scent of smoke filling the room. Not enough to be dangerous and definitely not enough to be visible but certainly enough to be unpleasant to everyone in the room. 

He couldn't help but feel Bad would have his head for this.

Dream simply sat for a few moments, struggling to regain his composure, before finally sitting up from his spot and glancing at the sheet of very burnt cookies. "Um... I don't suppose those are salvageable?" He questioned in a half-joking tone, letting out a nervous chuckle. He felt rather bad for distracting George for so long, though if he was being honest, he didn't regret it for a single moment. 

"Definitely not salvageable," Sapnap chimed in, snickering at the quick, light-hearted glare Dream flashed at him.

George groaned, staring at the black lumps in disappointment. "You'd need a time machine for those to be edible." He looked up at Dream, pointedly ignoring Sapnap. "I don't suppose you have one?"

"Ah, you know, it's a shame, I figured I wouldn't need that today so I left it at home with Patches. I can ask her to drive it over for us though," Dream joked, patting the brunet to comfort him over the very failed attempt at cookies. "Or maybe we've got another food date to plan, to make up for  _ those _ ," His joking tone changed to be light, and somewhat optimistic.

George felt nervous, intrusive even as they talked about their plans in front of Sapnap. He wasn't even certain why, was it from some sort of misguided sense of obligation to Sapnap and their old relationship as his feelings went beyond friendly for Dream or was it the way that recalled that Dream had called Sapnap his best friend. 

Was he a threat to their friendship? 

Experiencing both would certainly explain the amount of anxiety he felt sandwiched between the two of them as Dream spoke. 

George forced a laugh out at Dream's little joke, pretending to be happy as he responded with a tight nod and strained, "Yeah. Sounds good." His answer was short and clipped. He looked like he was on the verge of sprinting away from the situation.

Dream tilted his head curiously at the strained response, feeling the tension between the two grow once again, even as a bystander. Sapnap was staring at him, looking somewhat jealous that the plans were being made right in front of him. 

Instead of interjecting, he turned away from the duo, staring at his oven like the cookies would be done at any second, though it take multiple more minutes. "Um... hey, let's go wait at our station, yeah?" Dream suggested awkwardly.

George nodded again, eyes cast the floor, flushed with shame at the encounter. "Yeah..." he finally managed to spit out, nodding in agreement. He turned away to pull the inedible charred lumps out of the oven and put them in a position where they wouldn't catch fire. "These are pretty much beyond salvation anyway, we can just..." 

His face lit up with an idea as he rushed back to the station, looking determined and excited. "Can you grab me a banana?" George asked, nearly breathless as Dream reached their station having arrived only five seconds later.

"I- sure?" Dream nodded, the confusion clear in his voice as he looked around for a banana. It took him a little while to find one without asking for Bad's help, but eventually he located it. He returned, holding the fruit out to George and questioning, "So what's it for?"

George rolled his eyes like it was obvious. 

Which it was not.

"Something that'll make up for burnt cookies." He responded with a knowing grin and sparkle in his eyes as he pulled out a blender and an egg and mixed what seemed like very few ingredients together.

Dream's confusion only grew as he observed the baker, trying to get close enough to see everything he did without intruding too far into his personal space (which he was most definitely doing). "Yeah? What's that something?" He questioned, sounding like a kid trying to figure out what they were getting for Christmas.

George dipped his finger into the now smooth chocolate-y brown batter and booped Dream's nose in the stuff. The banana smell was surprisingly mild in comparison to the rest of the ingredients and chocolate flavor and George smiled playfully at Dream while he poured the mix into a small bowl.

Dream jolted at the sudden touch, laughing lightly when he realized what was going on. He reached up and wiped the substance off of his nose, bringing his finger to his mouth and licking it off. "Mmm, I like it! A lot, actually. I still wanna know what it is though."

"Are you always this impatient?" George asked in an unamused tone though his face and eyes were crinkled in enjoyment by the banter.

"Hm.. yeah, pretty much," Dream nodded, chuckling lightly. Nonetheless, he ceased the questioning, silently watching the other bake while biting his tongue to avoid further annoying George.

"Well it's a good thing I'm making a super fast recipe then, Mister Martha Stewart's-rival-who-can't-even-wait-five-minutes-for-a-cake." George jibed. His tone changed as he softly chided, "Another part about baking is balancing the waiting with the doing, Dream." George shoved the small bowl into the microwave and set it to go for 1.5 minutes.

"Doing whaaaat? Baking's so much waiting, it's boring. I don't know how you have the patience for it," Dream whined, leaning against George as he stared down the timer.

George laughed lightly as he ruffled fingers through Dream's hair. Pulling away when the microwave started beeping that his little concoction was ready. When he pulled it out, a delicate and airy chocolate banana scent wafted out with the vapor. He turned to Dream, holding the small cake in his hands, a towel between the two protecting him from the heat. 

" _ Doing _ cool shit like mixing and mincing and things you'd do in cooking too, I guess, but so much cooler. And I have the patience because it leads to creating magic. Like this." He set down the fluffy cake in front of Dream and grabbed a fork for them to eat with.

Dream let out an excited gasp, his emerald green eyes widening at the mesmerizing sight. The scent alone was enough to make his mouth water, with thoughts of chocolate chip cookies long forgotten. As the smell of chocolate and banana filled the air, curious classmates glanced over, and intrigued murmurs could be heard around them. Dream felt rather proud of their creation, and a wild smile grew across his lips as he glanced over at George.

George looked around with a gulp, giving a small wave to all the curious eyes. He poured his entire attention back on Dream. "It's just a little microwave cake thing, but it's the fastest recipe I know that we could make in time. How is it?" He asked nervously, it had been a while since he'd made this after all. In his peripheral, he saw Bad looking just as curious as the onlookers around them did as he approached. 

Before Dream responded, he also caught a glimpse of Sapnap. Their eyes locked amidst the sea of people and George's heart tightened as he recognized the look in his eyes. Pride.

Nothing nearly as adoring or comforting like Dream’s had been, making George's chest bloom with warmth, but a friendly, almost sage gesture that made George simultaneously want to punch something or cry.  _ Would they be tears of joy? _

He couldn't tell. It was an emotion accompanied by a small smile and thumbs up that eventually made him turn away. George didn't understand why Sapnap couldn't just make this easy for him and be an asshole. No, of course he had to show small gestures of peace and friendliness. Maybe that's why George had cut him out of his life. The half hearted lingering feelings and remnants of affection couldn't take his kindness. It hurt.

Dream took a small chunk of it with his fork, eager biting into it. He was silent as he chewed, though the smile was still tugging at his lips. Once he finished, he said, "It's amazing, Georgie. Though I'm not surprised, since you made it." With those gentle, but oddly loving words, he took another bite, savoring the sweet flavors of the quick dessert. Was he easily impressed? Maybe. But that didn't change that George never failed to impress him.

George looked to Dream, the mere sight of Dream as well as how eagerly he enjoyed one of their creations causing the anxious turbulent feelings he couldn't unravel with Sapnap to unwind and relax like a taut thread finally loosened. He smiled. "I'm glad you like it, Dream." He realized how dopey and soft his voice had gotten because he immediately followed up with a more jesting, "it's just some dumb three ingredient cake that I'd live off of when working in the fast food industry. Probably really bad for you." His matter of factness was undermined by the goofy smile on his face.

"Well,  _ I _ think that it's a great cake, three ingredients and all. Maybe I prefer my cakes short and simple, you don't know," He said in a half-teasing tone, moving the dessert closer to George for him to have a bite, even though he'd probably had it plenty of times before. "C'mon, I don't wanna eat alone."

George couldn't help but feel like his words were a slight innuendo. But he ignored Dream's words and whatever hidden flirtation might be hidden there as he picked up a fork and dug into the cake and took a bite. He mentally noted different things he could've done, took one last teeny bit then handed it back to Dream. "Not too shabby."

The rest of class passed relatively smoothly, aside from George being kept after being scolded by Bad for nearly smoking the entire classroom and Skeppy asking George to make another cake for him. 

Sapnap and Dream left together, though George's phone was immediately blown up with texts from Dream, with a million apologies for getting him in trouble and accusations of cheating in Never Have I Ever. However, the last text was perhaps the most meaningful - a simple, "See you Friday? At 6?"

George had a smile on his face as he typed back a cheery, “Yep :)”


	6. Never Have I Ever Lived Out a Romcom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tension between Dream and George finally reaches a breaking point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are so lovely and inspire Juno and I to keep going for days ;^; Thank you so much all of you lovely readers and kind commenters, your feedback and involvement is so appreciated <3
> 
> Anyway, obligatory warning: [PAIN INCOMING!] Good luck! :D

Friday came rather quickly, almost overwhelmingly so for Dream, who was struggling to decide on what to teach George. He eventually settled for a different pasta than the one they'd eaten together, as that was the easiest meal to learn. Besides, he figured George had a soft spot for pasta, since he'd loved it so much when he came over. 

By early 5, he was panicking over what outfit to wear, as well as what cologne to use. He'd tried to subtly ask Sapnap for help, but that flopped as soon as Sapnap figured out what was going on. 

By the time he had to go, he was multitasking, brushing his hair, putting on his jacket, and slipping on his shoes. He arrived at George's apartment complex a mere minute early, though he likely hadn't exactly gone the speed limit the entire time.

George opened the door before Dream could even reach the hallway porch outside his house. He stood, dressed in a white dress shirt with a light blue waistcoat, nervously fiddling with his collar as he tried to make it look casual. Clearly he had dressed up more than last time and as Dream approached, he could smell a faint perfume-y note in the air. It wasn't strong but the nervous energy and nice smell gave the impression that George had been getting ready for a while. 

He gave a smile as his eyes met Dream's, small and easy in contrast to the strained expressions and emotions from their last encounter with Sapnap at the baking class. He waved, greeting him with a happy, "Hi, Dream."

"Hey, Georgie," Dream flashed his brightest smile, giving a quick wave as well. He paused, taking a moment to appreciate the effort George seemed to have put in. "You look nice. Also, is that a new cologne or perfume? I don't think you've used it before," He attempted to comment on all of George's efforts, not wanting any to seem unnoticed.

George's cheeks flushed red, half basking in the comments, half wishing Dream could've just moved on and ignored the effort he put into the night. Maybe it would make him save face or perhaps conceal that he wanted to put way more into this than he really ought to. 

"No, I think you're just imagining things." George said with a light smile and playful look in his eyes that either hinted he wasn't being wholly truthful or just doing a shit job at using sarcasm. The brown haired boy felt the temptation to do something more than just awkwardly stand there, so tempted to lean up and give the other a hug, one of those superb hugs that Dream would reciprocate and show why he was the cuddle master. 

Instead, he squashed the desires and brushed past Dream to walk down the stairs and head to that obnoxiously bright green car.

"Aw, no hug?" Dream pouted as he walked to the car, though his teasing tone revealed he wasn't really hurt. He got into the front seat, immediately blasting the AC to combat the merciless Florida sun. 

"So- how comfortable are you with cooking? Are you like- 'inexperienced but not terrible', or are you comparable to my baking attempts? I gotta know if I should prepare a fire extinguisher or not."

George barked out a short laugh, buckling in. "I don't know if anyone could compare to your incredible baking attempts. I guess I'm more of the first one? I never set anything on fire but my meals are usually uncooked or look a little similar to the "cookies" we made during the last class more often than not."

"Soooo, sounds like the fire extinguisher is needed then," Dream laughed along as he buckled his seat belt, starting the short journey from George's place to his. 

However, the drive seemed impossibly long to him- or maybe it was just the thought of being stuck right there by George, with no way to escape when he inevitably would embarrass himself. He cursed himself for making things awkward so early in their rapidly developing friendship.

Oblivious to Dream's inner plight, George scoffed and took the bait. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms as he replied, "I've never set anything on fire before,  _ idiot." _ And there was that word again, said in the most affectionate and contradictory way possible. Spoken like George had just called him  _ sweetheart  _ or something instead of having just insulted his intelligence.

Dream tensed, replaying the endearing insult in his head a million times. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, as if he was trying to transfer all of his confusion and stress into the wheel. 

"Well, after yesterday's cookies, I sincerely doubt that. Unless, of course,  _ I'm _ the root of the issue. Are you too busy getting lost in my eyes to focus on the food? Either way, sounds like you're as much of a fire hazard as I am," Dream teased light-heartedly.

"I dunno, Dreamie," George smirked. "Seemed like you were the one getting lost in my eyes yesterday." George almost regretted saying the words, his heart racing faster as he recalled exactly how Dream looked under his hands. He ignored it. 

He was good at ignoring it at this point. 

He would continue to ignore it. 

"It's not my fault you're such a distraction." George said, turning his face away to stare out the window and calm his heart with the scenery racing by.

Dream let out a thoughtful hum, thinking of a comeback as he struggled to maintain his composure. "My point still stands though, you're too focused on me and my cute face to not start a fire," He pointed out, followed by a chuckle. He was hiding behind his flirtatious lines and cocky laughs at this point, and he wasn't sure what he'd do when George saw through it. 

Though, as he took a quick glance over at the boy, he wondered if George would ever see through it. It seemed any time his words started to get to George, he'd simply look away and pretend nothing had happened. It made things so painfully complicated, but at least it bought Dream more time to figure out what the hell was coming out of his mouth.

"Wh- No! I... No! I-" words quickly failed George as his full attention was fixed on Dream. The trees rushing by behind him went forgotten. His brain whirred as he tried to think of something to say. Deny it? He was less and less confident that it wasn't true. He decided to divert the conversation, an easy ctrl + z as he took the coward's way out. 

"No, you're just entirely at fault. Absolutely the root of the issue. Distraction with your  _ words _ and just... personality. You're loud. You demand attention." As he spoke, he realized his words came out harsher in the deflection than he wanted them to. 

_ Fuck, think of something nicer to say. Don't be a dick, George. _

Quietly, he added, "I guess it's a good thing I like it..."

It took all of Dream's self control to not slam on the brakes right then and there as the words jolted through him, like a bolt of lightning striking him and shocking him to his core. The words were static, shocking him every time tried to figure out how to respond. 

"I guess so too," His voice was quiet and uncertain, leaving him vulnerable without the confident defense he was hiding behind. Those were the only words he trusted to leave his mouth, fearing any more would cause him to admit things he wasn't fully certain about yet. But, his big stupid mouth had to open again, and he had to let those damn words spill out. "And maybe... maybe I like this too," He murmured, his words so quiet he questioned if he'd even said it.

George's face fell at Dream's initial tone. He figured his save hadn't worked. The tone was so raw like nothing he'd ever heard before. 

He really fucked up, huh. 

So when Dream spoke again to say those soft words, George wasn't even sure if he was breathing anymore. What the hell did that mean? Why wasn't Dream following it up with a laugh and "just kidding"! George tried to calm the internal questions. 

Once again, George had to convince himself Dream was joking. Or maybe he was just happy to be learning how to bake. Or-  _ intuition told him otherwise. _ He told intuition to shove it. Thankfully, before he had to think of  _ what the hell _ he would even say, he recognized the familiar geometric angles of Dream's house. It felt like the wrong time to make another playboy mansion joke.

Dream let out a deep breath of relief at the sight of his house, desperate for a break from their painfully intimate conversation. It's not like he didn't enjoy it- in fact, there's nothing he wanted more than this. But he was so confused, so lost. 

These feelings were so new and sudden, hitting him hard the moment they were alone. He rushed out once he was parked, praying that either Patches or their upcoming cooking lesson would rescue them from his stupid mouth that he couldn't seem to control.

George tried not to take offense to the rushed movements to escape either himself or the conversation, and it nearly worked as he watched the retreating figure and tried to uncover what the hell was happening between the two of them. It felt so hot and cold, like fire and ice at the same time. 

The conversations being like taking a dip into water so cold it burned, flirtatious then awkward and tense. 

George couldn't figure it out. 

He couldn't figure Dream out. 

Is this what friendship was supposed to feel like? 

He shoved his thoughts aside as he drudged behind Dream to the front of his house and eagerly keened his neck to look for Patches. At least one thing would be a constant, reassuring factor in his knowledge of Dream. 

A super cute pretty kitty that loved rubs between the ears. And wouldn't run away at the slightest sign of affection. Like someone. 

He leaned down at the entrance as Dream stalked off to the kitchen, rubbing between Patch's ears and closing the door behind him so she couldn't suddenly bolt if she felt the inkling to be adventurous. "Hey girl, nice to see you again." George whispered, smiling happily at the cute kitten.

Patches let out a loud purr, seeming rather relieved to see George again.

Hearing the purr, Dream smiled fondly, trying his best to focus on the comforting familiarity of him being in the kitchen as Patches warms up to George and not his loudly pounding heart that seemed ready to explode out of his chest. As he sorted out his emotions, he began to set out the ingredients they'd be using, pausing briefly to consider getting a recipe for George to follow before deciding they'd be fine without it. Probably.

George finished up petting Patches and stepped into the kitchen with avid curiosity. His eyes traveled along the ingredients and then to Dream. "So what exactly are we making?"

"We are making the literal easiest meal I could think of- spaghetti! We boil noodles, heat up the sauce, add a bit of seasoning; boom, meal made. I figured this would be a good start. It's the second or third thing I learned! With grilled cheese being first, of course," Dream rambled excitedly, gesturing along with his words. He was grinning rather widely, seemingly excited to test out his teaching skills.

George nodded, following along and connecting the steps to the ingredients. It seemed easy enough. "Sounds good, so where's the recipe?" He looked to Dream inquisitively, glancing around the kitchen as if expecting him to brandish some old cookbook or sheet prepared earlier at a moment's notice.

"Uh- you don't cook much, do you?" Dream chuckled, elaborating, "Most recipes are... y'know, memorized. I mean, of course the more complicated ones should be used with a recipe- but simple stuff like spaghetti is super easy to memorize."

George grumbled, kicking at the floor. "I thought we'd already established I don't cook a lot." 

Then George looked up, a mix of disbelief and concern etched into his face. "Memorize?? That seems like a lot to remember. How are you supposed to accurately know the exact proportions and get the correct timing each time?"

"You- you don't? You just kinda go with what your gut says. Like, I usually fill the pot with water until it's about half way, maybe a little less," Dream laughed lightly at the childlike irritation George was displaying. He turned on the tap water, moving it to the hottest setting and occasionally testing the temperature with his finger. "That's our first step, by the way. Filling the pot with hot water."

"" _ Maybe? _ "" George repeated in an indignant, almost offended tone. Despite moving to find a pot and fill it with water, he still looked skeptical. "What if I pick the wrong pot? What if you pick a different size? How are you supposed to know without cups or quarts or  _ anything _ ?"

"Relax, silly. It'll be fine. There's a reason I'm here to help, remember? And if you can make spaghetti once, you can make it a million times," Dream assured him, giving his head a gentle pat before backing away to allow space for him to move the pot to the sink.

George wasn't reassured in the slightest, even if he did immensely appreciate the brief contact and odd feeling of praise though he'd done nothing yet. He was still nervously glancing at the pot in his hands and wondering if it was, in fact, the right one as the thousands of thoughts in his mind about all the ways this could go wrong whirred loudly. 

He spared Dream a panicked glance before quickly turning back to the sink and letting his pride run rampant. He could do this. He certainly didn't need Dream's approval. Or help. In knowing how to do something he'd never done before- He stared down past the running water and into the pot. It looked pretty full, definitely more than half. Or was it? 

George attempted to dump some out, the heavy metal making his arms sag with the weight. Unused to the distribution, most of the water spilled out. He analyzed the contents of the pot. It was now much less than half... probably. It was  _ less _ . It would probably work. Probably. 

There were far too many probablys involved in this process for his liking.

"That looks good, though I'm sure you already knew that," Dream commented, a knowing grin on his face as his tone was somewhere between teasing and comforting. "Now put it on the stove, then turn the heat to high."

"Finally, some clear instructions." Moving to put the pot on the stove, George shot Dream a smirk, the association game concocting a fun little jab to deliver. 

"Is anything ever clear with you chefs?" His words were meant to be light and teasing, but his intention was clear. Maybe it was a little unfair to project his confusion towards Dream's actions onto the man himself, but as the fire sprung to life and he stared into the black water, George found himself more fed up than he realized.

"Hey, I'm no chef. Just a guy who cooks dinner for cute brunets when they stay the night," Dream responded calmly, taking little offense to the very obvious projecting. As much as he wanted to assure all of George's clear worries, he chose his words carefully, fearing that the boy would snap if he felt called out or doubted.

George didn't pick up on whatever tone the blond was hoping to achieve, his mind frozen on his words instead. "Stay the night? Again?" The last word slipped out, not entirely intentional as the filter between his brain and mouth seemed to dissolve.

"If you'd like," Dream offered, his calm tone quickly morphing into one of excitement. He'd originally been referencing their original night shared together, but was rather pleased with the misinterpretation, if it meant he could share another night with George.

George's face heated against his will. He really couldn't understand the blond. "I-I mean, if it gets too late, and maybe if you're too tired to drive or.... Anyway! What do we do now? Where's the pasta? Shouldn't we add it?" His series of questions aimed to deter the conversation back to one he  _ could _ understand.

"Once the water starts boiling, yeah. It'll take a bit for that all to start boiling, though. I like to busy myself with more prep stuff while I wait- like we could get the sauce in the pan, and set it on a low heat. It tends to cook a lot faster than the pasta, so that's why we keep it on low. I've got the jar set out there, can you grab it and get the lid off while I find the pan?"

George nodded, barely able to follow along and keep up as he tried to make a mental vision of a recipe in his mind. This whole no recipe thing felt like an off book test he'd never studied for while his best friend was trying to (enthusiastically) give him the answers and information before the test began. He focused himself on the part he did understand, finding the jar. 

George easily found it and brought it back. "So, is the pasta anything special tonight, not-chef Dream?"

"Nope, just regular spaghetti. Once the noodles are in, it'll just be a lot of waiting and stirring until the very end," Dream explained as he grabbed the pan, setting it on the stove beside the pot of nearly boiling water. "Put the sauce in that, my dear not-sous chef."

"A lot of waiting, huh?" George cooed smugly, continuing with "And yet you don't have the patience for baking." He clicked his tongue before pausing for a moment. "Sew chef?" George questioned, confusion evident.

" _ Sous _ chef. S-o-u-s. Like an assistant chef! Also, there's a huge difference between waiting four hours for something to freeze rather than waiting like 6 minutes for water to boil," Dream fired back with a soft chuckle. "Now, get that jar open and pour into the pan, please. The water's almost ready for the noodles."

George rolled his eyes in disagreement, popping off the lid of the jar regardless. To his horror, the pop was accompanied by the top layer of sauce going flying as he struggled to get the lid off. 

The small amounts of sauce flew across the room, landing on the counters, the floor and even- "Oh my god, Dream. Your face!" George laughed, trying his best to stop, knowing this was all his fault, but the humiliation and action only made the situation seem more hilarious. 

George stepped over and ran a thumb across Dream's cheek, licking the sauce afterwards, murmuring an apology through the giggles."Sorry."

Dream flinched at the sudden sauce assault, staring with a mixture of shock and disappointment as it spread across his kitchen and face. However, as George wiped it off his face and licked the sauce from his fingers, a soft red hue grew on his cheeks, accompanied by an amused wheeze. "It's fine, it's fine. That shouldn't take long to clean," He said between wheezes, already turning to grab the paper towels to clean George's mess.

George set down the jar on the counter closest to Dream and grabbed paper towels, getting to his knees to make sure that no part of his pristine white kitchen would remain dirty. Distantly he thought it strange that his kitchen, a place intended to cook in, was sterile white and would show if any sort of mess happened. 

He stood, sheepishly staring at a nice vase of flowers to distract himself. "So, what do we do with the sauce that didn't explode everywhere?" George asked, daring a glance back at Dream.

"Put it in the pan," Dream said for what must've been the third time now. He was truly regretting not finding a recipe for George at this point, though he showed no sign of that regret on his face. Instead, he still had a wide grin, somehow not seeming even inconvenienced by the issues they'd faced so far.

Shamefully pouring the sauce into the pan, George regretted being here at all. Well, not really, but all he'd done since arriving was made a fool of himself. He'd even tried to dress nice,  _ what was he thinking? _ Once sauce was poured, he fiddled with the buttons of his waist coat, trying to make it seem a bit more casual and less tight or formal. It alleviated some of the shame. 

He heard water bubbling and saw the pot boiling. George looked to Dream, "That means the noodles are ready to go in, right?" George's voice was casual but he was desperate to show he wasn't completely incompetent.

"Yeah! Good job," Dream praised, throwing away their paper towels before moving to the box of noodles. Opening it for George this time, he handed it over to the boy before moving away to grab large wooden spoons to stir both the noodles and the sauce with. "Don't worry, you don't have to do anything special. Just pour it in."

The words seemed simple enough. 

Almost  _ too _ simple, like a trap of some kind. 

George nervously eyed the box before just going for it and dumping the contents of the box into the water. The hardened noodles entered smoothly, until he tried to remove the box that is. 

Pulling back the box too early, some noodles started following the box instead of letting gravity take over and fall into the water, getting dangerously close to teetering out of both the box and the pan. George froze with eyes wide in panic as he looked to Dream for assistance.

Dream chuckled lightly as he moved to save the other from more runaway food. He took the box and pulled it as far back as he could without the noodles falling to the ground, before reaching in and pulling the noodles out with his hand, avoiding the hot metal the best he could. Once the last few noodles fell into the pot, he pulled away, bringing the box to the trash can. "Now we wait a little before we start stirring!"

"How much is a little bit?" George questioned, eyeing the pot warily.

Dream simply shrugged in response, glancing back at the pot. "I dunno, I just kinda do it when I feel like it. You don't have to  _ babysit it _ , just stir it occasionally. Y'know?" Dream explained, holding out the wooden spoon he'd grabbed early for George.

George took the spoon with a huff, mocking Dream with a tease. He echoed, "" _ When I feel like it. _ " You weren't kidding when you said baking is like a science, huh. Especially when  _ this _ is what you were comparing it to."

"Please, even  _ science _ is more forgiving than baking," Dream countered with a small laugh. "But this is the fun of cooking. You can kinda just... do whatever you want with recipes, and do it as you feel like it. There's rules to it, but those rules are very relaxed. Plus it's way faster."

"Hmmm, my microwave cake would disagree with you. But  _ okayy _ ," George drawled snarkily.

He rolled his eyes and looked back to the noodles simmering and the pasta sauce that had yet to show any sign of cooking at all. "So, do we stir something now or what?" George asked, feigning disinterest although, despite the mishaps, he was starting to get into this whole cooking thing.

"Yeah! The stirring is mostly to keep it from burning and sticking to the bottom of the pan, so it's not like you have to stir until something happens. You just stir a bit, wait, repeat. It'll be ready before you know!" Dream explained, rather excited to finally be the one sharing his knowledge rather than being guided like a clueless kid.

The words seemed redundant and yet somehow not making sense at all as they swam in George's head. He was sure the words meant something. Just, not to him. He hated feeling like a useless presence, so he tried to work it out. 

From what George  _ could _ gather, it would be ready soon and he shouldn't worry too much. He tentatively grabbed the spoon and stirred, staring into the bubbles and watching the yellow noodles float around with intrigue. He had to pull back his face as hot steam engulfed his vision and began to hurt. 

Despite only being able to gaze for a small while each time, George was fascinated by the dancing noodles and watching as they cooked. It was such a magnificent difference from the usual process of baking; putting all the care into the prep and mixing then leaving it to bake. Instead, he could see as the stiffness of the noodles melt away like butter as the warm water broke down the structure. It was like magic. Without much thought, a small smile of wonder filled his face.

Dream was silently observing the baker, a fond smile spreading across his face as he watched the wonder flicker on like a lightbulb in George's eyes and smile. He made no remarks as the boy stirred, seemingly content with what he was doing. 

Still, he kept a cautious eye on the food, determined to not let the spaghetti burn so as to not scare George away from cooking. In all honesty, he'd underestimated the difficulty of cooking versus baking. It was ironic, considering how much he'd struggled with baking. But he figured that George had to be much better of a cook than he claimed to be, and his lack of knowledge genuinely surprised Dream. 

However, he felt nothing but pride as he watched George finally succeeding on his own, even if it was something so simple, like a baby bird just starting to learn how to fly. Sure, the bird was clumsy, and had fallen plenty of times. But that didn't change that he'd succeeded in the end. The cheesy thought only widened Dream's smile, to the point he was trying to subtly hide it behind his hand.

At the movement in his peripheral, George was finally broken out of whatever trance the bubbles inside the boiling pot had pulled him into. He blinked, looking back towards Dream and the weird shell like pose he was making to hide the smile. The action and obvious buffoonery made George laugh as well, a light series of high chuckles. He raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Can I help you, Dream?" He said lightly, almost teasingly.

"No no, don't worry. Ignore me, I'm being an idiot," Dream brushed off, not sounding convincing in the slightest. "You're just doing good, that's all. It should almost be ready."

George's heart glowed at the praise and he suppressed a bigger smile. He turned back to the pot, not bothering to stare at the contents as the wooden spoon in his hand cut through the water. 

No, his brain was much too fixed on the way Dream's praises really got to him, making him feel less of a waste of space and like he was  _ actually _ accomplishing something. The warm fuzzy feeling was almost intoxicating. He willed away the way the feeling was getting to him as it traveled downwards. Thankfully, George was pulled out of his inner speculations to pay attention to the pan boiling with sauce and he brought the spoon to stir that mixture instead. Couldn't exactly make Dream proud if he burned it all.

"Wanna test if the noodles are ready? We can do it a simple way- or we can do it the  _ fun _ way," Dream suggested, a twinkle of excitement in his emerald eyes as he glanced between George and the pot of probably finished noodles. He was practically  _ begging _ George to choose the "fun" way with his eyes, flashing those signature puppy eyes of his.

George stared at Dream, his heart pounding as he convinced himself it wasn't from the look Dream was giving him. 

He hesitantly said, "I'm almost afraid to ask what the," he wiggled both sets of index and middle fingers in air quotes, "" _ fun _ " way is." he lowered his arms. 

"But sure, I guess..." he was petrified and his heart was racing, why did  _ fun _ have to sound so much like an innuendo. 

Did Dream mean it was one? George was a mess, he was sure of it. What he wasn't sure of was Dream's intentions. The praise from earlier wasn't exactly helping either, setting him on edge to go pliant at the barest touch.

"Aw c'mon, you'll love it. Trust me," Dream assured as his smile turned into a childish grin, gently taking the spoon from George before pulling up a few noodles from the water. He blew on it for a few moments before taking two noodles - one for him and one for George. 

He let the rest of the noodles fall back into the pot, handing George a noodle, before explaining, "Throw a noodle against either the ceiling or a wall. If it's ready, it'll do something cool!" He was rather vague with his wording, since he wanted George to experience it without spoilers. Maybe George already knew how it worked, and he'd tease Dream about being lame about this - honestly, Dream didn't mind, as long as they got to share a stupidly silly moment.

George stared at Dream like he'd grown another head, holding the limp noodle in confusion. At least the traitorous thoughts from earlier were gone. "I'm sorry," he began, most decidedly not sorry, "you want me to throw food at your walls?? What will it do? Sprout wings and fly around the room??"

"Wh- WHAT?" Dream questioned, followed by a loud wheeze. He laughed for a little while, attempting to speak between wheezes, "Just trust me, you dork."

"Dork?  _ I'm _ a dork?? Sure, Dream. Said the weirdo asking me to chuck pasta at his house..." With one final grumble from George he finally aimed at an empty patch of wall and flung the noodle as hard as he could, idly wondering what the hell would happen. As it turned out, magic. Or just science George didn't understand. 

His eyes went wide as the noodle stuck to the wall and didn't fall down. 

"What the hell?" George laughed out in disbelief, finally looking to Dream for answers with a grin.

"What can I say, the weirdo's got some tricks up his sleeve," Dream grinned, laughing lightly at George's curious expression. Deciding to tease the other by making him wait even longer for an explanation, he ate the noodle that he'd kept for himself as a more precise test of its readiness. 

Satisfied with the texture, he turned off the heat below the noodles as he finally explained, "It's a test of how ready the noodles are. If it sticks, it's ready. Though you should also taste test, since that's a much more precise method. Still, it's always fun to fling noodles at walls."

George rolled his eyes playfully while he ripped his gaze from the noodle that would inevitably fall... eventually... right? He spared one last glance before returning to Dream's side. "Can I taste?" George inquired, looking between Dream and the pot in fascination. He wasn't quite sure what the taste test was supposed to prove or  _ how _ , but it sounded fun.

"Of course! If you want, you can get a noodle while I find a strainer for us?" Dream suggested, already moving to one of his cabinets to pull out a strainer. He set it in the sink, pausing for a moment then turning to the noodle that was still on the wall and pulling it off. He glanced it over, checking mainly for dust or anything, before putting it in his mouth once he figured it was fine.

"Sure!" George said, excited to try his hand at noodle fishing. Looking back into the entrancing pot, he grabbed the spoon and took a moment to figure out a battle plan. Coming up with nothing especially exciting, he plunged the spoon into the boiling water and tried to pull out a noodle. He pulled out water. 

George groaned. The noodles weren't going to cooperate willingly, were they? He dipped the spoon back in again only to get a lot more resistance, and when pulling up the wooden utensil again there were an abundance of noodles. As he moved his finger closer to the noodle, both the heat radiating off of it as well as the steam made it pretty damn clear that grabbing one noodle out of the tangled mess was going to be a herculean task. If it was even possible. 

Deciding he didn't want to find out the answer, George dipped the spoon back into the water and tried to grab a smaller amount of noodles, thankfully managing to get just two strands. He blew on them, still wary of the heat before finally plopping them both into his mouth. 

It was rather underwhelming and George guessed he got exactly what he should've expected. Plain noodles. They tasted pretty good though, even without sauce, George could tell the texture was right.

Dream looked over, catching the latter half of George's struggles. He didn't say much about it, though that was because he was trying not to laugh at the pitiful scene. "Alright," He began once the noodle had finally been eaten, "now it goes in the strainer. Do you wanna do that, or should I?"

While George wasn't familiar with the concept of a strainer, it sounded and looked similar to a sifter. How different could it be? He shrugged and accepted the colander from Dream's outstretched hand. 

"I've got it." George confidently stated, a complete and utter lie to his aptitude with the tool he'd never seen before. Glancing between the strainer and the boiling water, he decided that the best solution was to hold both items in each hand, regardless of the weight. 

He attempted to pour the water and the contents from the heavy metal pan into the medium plastic container with holes, it was a struggle and eventually the inevitable happened. Trying to wrangle the two increasingly heavy items ended poorly, the water splashing up onto the wrist holding the colander and in reaction he dropped the item, noodles bouncing over the side. 

Despite the throbbing wrist, George was glad more noodles hadn't escaped. He hissed in pain and looked to Dream, eyebrows furrowed. "Dream, help? Please? It hurts..."

Dream took the pot from George's hand, swiftly setting it back on the stove before turning his attention to the sink. 

He turned it on and moved it to cool, adjusting the strainer away from the stream of water, and waiting for the temperature to adjust. Once he was satisfied with the temperature, he changed his focus to the injured boy, flashing a sympathetic smile and gently grabbing his wrist, careful to avoid the burn. 

"Let's run some cool water over it, yeah? That should feel a bit better," Dream explained, guiding the older's hand to the water stream.

George felt his body go warm at the touch, though he blamed the burn as the feeling spread from the pain flashing in his wrist. The cold water felt soothing and sighed in appreciation. 

"In hindsight, I guess that wasn't the brightest move to try and double hand it..." George offered, trying to make small talk to distract himself from the warmth that was flooding to his chest.

Dream let out a soft chuckle, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, but at least now you know, silly. If it's any comfort, we're pretty much done now. I'll make our plates once we finish with this," Dream rambled, absentmindedly rubbing up and down George's wrist to comfort him as he spoke.

George was barely paying attention to Dream's words, nodding without any real understanding as all he could focus on was the way Dream's fingers danced across the injury. 

The touches were brushed across his skin with care and, even while lacking thought, seemed to somehow alleviate the pain. Dream removing his hand to go put together the plates finally made George snap out of it and try to recall what exactly Dream had said. 

He blinked and made a small "uh huh" of agreement, as he watched Dream and then the sauce. "So the sauce is done, then?"

"Yep, it should be!" Dream chirped, turning the heat from low to off under the sauce. Grabbing a few of the spices he'd set out, he sprinkled a bit in, mixing it one last time before giving a satisfied nod. As he came back to the sink to get the noodles, he flashed another smile at George, though this was more friendly than sympathetic. 

"You gonna be okay?" He questioned as he poured the noodles into the pot.

"Of course." George scoffed, turning away and refusing to let Dream meet his eyes. He didn't know if he could handle the kind look after such a disastrous series of chaotic events.

Dream simply laughed at the defensive response, biting back a teasing comment to spare the boy's pride. As he scooped the noodles and sauce for them, he thought over the afternoon's events, wondering if the disaster would scare George off from cooking. Yet, as terrible as the ordeal was, a fond smile crept onto his freckled face. 

Sure, it'd gone wrong in almost every possible way, yet Dream couldn't help but hope that they'd do it again some time. Besides, they'd managed to save the spaghetti throughout it all, and it looked just as good as it'd be if he made it alone. "So, you wanna eat on the stools again, or do you wanna watch something while we eat?" He questioned, trying to distract himself from the romantic thoughts that were poking at his brain relentlessly the moment he glanced over at George.

George contemplated the question, arguing with the logical side of his brain telling him that the counter would be more formal, less messy, less familiar- and on the other hand was his delusional crush part of his brain goading him into considering the couch.  _ 'Yeah, it might not be conventional, but maybe you can cuddle with him and Patches again. _ ' It whispered, coaxing. His chest felt tight.

This shouldn't be a hard question. 

He didn't  _ want _ to tempt fate, he didn't  _ want _ to have this  _ want. _

He just wanted to be Dream's good  _ friend. _

"We can eat on the stools again, it would be shitty if I ended up dropping sauce on your fancy couch." George said easy. Carelessly. He laughed a little, tone light as he locked his thoughts down.

Dream let out a light laugh as well, bringing their plates to the counter. "If you're hand's any better, the food's ready," He said, grabbing two forks for them before taking his seat. "If you still wanna hang out after we eat, you could show me more classic movies that I've sinfully never seen."

"Oh please, it's not like I shoved my hand into an open flame, even  _ I  _ know better than that." George elaborated, observing his hand and admittedly not feeling much pain except a lingering stinging sensation and a bright red patch of skin. He'd live. 

George then glanced up to Dream from the burn with a smile that wasn't entirely devoid of malicious intent. "Let's find out how sinful you are over dinner, then."

Dream let out a strange noise that was somewhere between choking, coughing, and wheezing, followed by sputters of sentences he couldn't figure out how to finish. Eventually, he settled on a small,  _ "Okay," _ before shoving a bite of food in his mouth to distract him from the growing heat on his cheeks.

George followed in suit, chewing the pasta and letting it sit for a moment as his taste buds relished in the flavor. Finally chewing and swallowing he looked to Dream with starry eyes and a small grin. "It's not bad." George remarked in a fond tone. He continued to eat as he racked his brain for possible movies, and despite his best efforts all he could come back to were Rom-Coms. 

But George was determined to find something in his memory that Dream wouldn't absolutely detest and in turn end up hating every moment with him. (A small voice in George's brain quipped that this was probably impossible but he tried to drown it out by angrily chewing another bite of pasta.)

" _ Not bad _ ? It's amazing for an inexperienced cook!" Dream argued as soon as he had swallowed, a mixture of fondness and pride in his voice. He was quiet after, though, as he was too busy shoveling bites of spaghetti in his mouth.

George quieted, trying not to let the compliments get to his head or his cheeks or- well anywhere else, as he turned his face away from Dream to hide the flustered reaction. He didn't know how to take the praise, so he just moved to eat again, the fork raveling the golden noodles like a rusted cinch - halted movements as he twined the noodle on the shiny metal. 

He distracted himself by forcing himself to think about a possible candidate for viewing later that night. 

A twisted thought entered his mind. If rom-coms wouldn't work, maybe horror movies would. 

"Alright so this might be a stretch, but how about some different types of classic movies? At least they're not romcoms, right. So how about The Shining? I mean, what am I saying? You've obviously seen it so I have other ones in mind-"

George stopped mid-sentence as he took in the blank look morphing into guilt on Dream's face. "Dream, you're kidding right? You've gotta be joking.  _ Please tell me you're joking _ ." George was on the brink of begging as he was hit with a sinking sensation that Dream was in fact, not joking.

"Look- I just don't have the attention span for movies, usually. There are many, many movies that I'm sure you'd murder me for never seeing," Dream defensively rambled, though it certainly wasn't helping his case.

George sighed, not wanting to know just how true the statement was. He merely agreed and moved on before he wound up dragging Dream into a 32-movie-marathon-binge-fest. 

Maybe later. 

His heart's light thumping picked up as he contemplated a future of curled up blanket piles with cats on top and merely existing in warm embraces as George shared the classics of his youth. He wouldn't imagine that. No. He blinked out of the whimsical fantasy and back to the more dire situation at hand - Dream hadn't seen The Shining. 

"You've at least heard about it, right?" George asked, desperation lacing the edges of his words.

"I mean like... I know the movie  _ exists _ , if that's what you mean. But that's pretty much all I know," Dream admitted with a sheepish grin, glancing away from the disappointed look he was expecting to see.

Instead of disappointment, laughter filled the air. Dream turned back to see George, attempting to cover his mouth with a hand as his eyes scrunched and the chuckles escaped. When George finally regained the ability to breathe normally and open his eyes to meet Dream's, there was an amused gleam to his smile. "You're such a dork. Of course that's all you know."

Dream couldn't tell if the heat in his cheeks came from embarrassment or adoration, but either way, the boy's laughter sent butterflies fluttering through his stomach along with feelings he couldn't ignore. A goofy grin grew on his lips as he rolled his eyes, responding, "Maybe I am a dork, but at least you love me anyways." It was supposed to be a joke, but there was a peculiar fondness that he couldn't quite hide in his tone.

George's breath hitched and he nearly choked on his bite of pasta as the word slammed into him like a truck's first encounter with a light post. The word he'd been so intent on avoiding easily uttered by the subject of his thoughts. How was George supposed to respond?  _ Should _ he respond? 

What did Dream mean, especially with the way his voice had softened…? George felt like he was asking this question too many times tonight. Damn Dream and his completely baffling actions that sent him spiraling. George realized he probably looked like a deer caught in headlights and turned his head away before Dream's confused stare could pierce his heart further. "Y-yeah. Yep." George choked out, refusing to try and overthink the words.

As painfully oblivious as Dream was, even he caught onto the choked reaction that George gave. 

Tilting his head, he stared at the other in confusion, wondering if he should comment about the reaction. However, he decided against it, figuring that'd lead to a conversation neither of them were quite ready for. Instead, he ate his food, pouring all of his willpower into focusing on the pasta instead of contemplating what that was about.

Dinner was passed with a strained silence, until the inevitable end of their pastas arrived. 

Avoiding the previous topic entirely, George pulled out his phone - beginning the hunt for where they could stream the classic horror movie from that night. To his relief, it was just available on Netflix. He spun the phone around to present his findings to Dream. "Looks like we won't be pirating movies tonight." George beamed.

Dream snorted as he stood, taking their plates to the sink to wash. "That's preferable," He chuckled, setting the hardly rinsed plates in the sink to be a problem for future him. With that, he made his way to the couch, flashing a bright, fond smile to Patches, who was excitedly following the boys to the couch.

" _ Preferable _ ." George mocked in an overly British accent, despite the already British accent he had. He flopped down onto the couch and immediately wrapped himself up in layers of fluffy blankets, smirking at Dream. 

"I am king of the blankets." With a proud proclamation and tight squeeze of the cloth wrapped around him, his gaze fell to Patches. He clicked his tongue and to his sheer joy she cuddled onto the pile. "Patches is my loyal subject, no Dreams allowed." The teasing tone merely a challenge to the blond haired boy he was currently locking eyes with.

Dream let out a playful, offended gasp, placing his hand over his heart. "I've known betrayal, but never quite like this. How will I ever recover, being kicked off of my own couch?" He barely bit back a laugh as he dramatically exclaimed, before a thoughtful look spread across his face. It seemed he'd developed a plan, as he disappeared to the kitchen for a moment, before reappearing with a bag of what looked like cat treats. 

"Hey pretty kitty, you want a treat?" He cooed, his face brightening as Patches immediately jumped down and approached him.

George watched, in terror, as his last line of defense left him. He lifted his hands with a sheepish grin and raised eyebrows. "Spare me? You can have a portion of the blanket." He offered placatingly.

"Patches knows no loyalties, only her treats," Dream victoriously explained as he gave a piece to the impatient cat. He placed to closed bag on the coffee table before sitting beside George, stealing a bit of the blankets for himself. With a nod, he decided, "I think we can call this a truce."

Without a word, George threw more of the blanket on to Dream, burrowing ever so slightly closer to him as he grabbed the remote and searched for The Shining. Although whether his actions were silent to protect his dignity or to slyly snatch some more contact between the two of them without Dream noticing... the world may never know. 

"Alright, with peace restored in the lands, I guess we can watch the movie now." George found the familiar cover and clicked, eagerly awaiting the time old classic and to share the movie with Dream.

Dream was silent for a few moments, before realization struck him. "Oh right, I don't think you told me the genre, only that it's not a romcom. To be fair, that's probably the only bad movie genre I can think of, but I'm still curious," He rambled quickly, wanting to get his words out before the movie really started.

George rolled his eyes, turning away from the starting film, the rolling landscapes following a small white car and the eerie notes beginning to play. "Romcom is not a  _ bad _ genre. That's like saying a whole type of desert isn't good just because it has sugar," George argued, stopping when the creepy music got louder. He cuddled closer to Dream to smile up at him with a wicked grin. George continued, "But to answer your question, it's horror. I can’t believe you didn’t know The Shining was horror." He turned back to the film and watched the bright cyan intro credits. "Although I don't find it  _ that _ scary. It's more of a thriller, really," George mused.

Dream's face fell as an uncertain oh spilled from his lips. Immediately, he curled more into the blanket, barely peeking above the fluffy defense between him and the movie. "Oh that's.. that's cool, yeah," He murmured, already feeling his heart begin to race in nervous anticipation.

"It is cool!" George insisted, entirely missing any signs of hesitation from Dream. The intro finally ended and introduced the characters and George was immediately enraptured.

Dream murmured to himself as he watched the characters interact, immediately unsettled by... everything. "Isn't that the guy from the  _ Here's Johnny _ meme?" He tilted his head, squinting at the man on the screen.

George laughed before glancing at Dream like he'd grown a third head, though painted like a clown. Humored but in disbelief. "I mean, I've never seen the meme, but that sounds like the most iconic scene from this movie." George answered quickly before he turned back to the film again.

"Oh," Dream responded sheepishly, realizing now how dumb his question must've sounded. Deciding to spare himself from further embarrassment for the time being, he shut up, trying to focus on the movie. 

However, it only took a few minutes before his anxiety got the best of him, and he began muttering again. "That kid's creepy. So is the dad. Everyone's creepy. I don't like this."

George only let out a little laugh, not bothering to look over as he retorted, "Well I'd hope they're creepy, this is a scary movie after all."

Dream simply frowned, burying himself further in the blankets, to the point half of his vision was his fluffy defense against whatever horrors would come. Part of him wanted to speak up, suggest a movie change, ask for comfort, anything; a much larger part of him insisted that he had to defend his pride and act unfazed.

George, continuously oblivious to Dream's plights and silent struggles, was enraptured by the movie. It was one of his favorites, despite having never scared him he loved everything about it - the cinematography, the plot, the acting, he could probably rant for hours about it. And as such, George was devoted to the screen in front of him. 

Absentmindedly, George reached a hand out to his left, expecting Patches to be seated there. His attention from the film only broke when he found a hand there instead. With a quick look, he confirmed it was Dream's hand. 

He was about to pull away like he'd been burned by a boiling pot of pasta when Dream's fingers grabbed onto George's, almost white knuckled. 

The contact between their palms made George hyper-aware of just how close he'd ended up cuddled up against Dream's side. With his heart racing, he tried to take advantage of the warm closeness and turn his attention back to the movie. He found it somewhat difficult. 

Apparently stupid flirtatious crushes he was trying to prevent trumped favorite movies.

Dream, however, couldn't seem to break his terror-filled gaze from the movie. It wasn't even that bad, sure, but the anticipation and anxiety of knowing something bad  _ would _ happen was bad enough to keep him gripping onto George's hand like it was the only thing keeping him from falling into a bottomless void of fear. Each tense interaction between characters sent shivers of terror crawling their way up his spine, filling him to the brim with anxieties that he knew were ridiculous. Hardly anything  _ genuinely _ scary had occurred, yet his heart raced so hard you'd think he had just finished a marathon.

Eventually the comforting grip on George's hand turned constricting enough to the point where George had to pause his intent viewing to look back at Dream. He rubbed his thumb along the other's hand and almost laughed when Dream jumped at the somewhat sudden motion. 

"Are you okay?" he whispered somewhat jokingly, surprised to see that Dream  _ might _ be a scaredy cat when it came to spooky movies. They hadn't even reached the truly scary stuff, it was just a family on a road trip.

"Yep," Dream rushed the words out, relieving his grip on George's hand though not yet letting go, "I'm great, why?" Although he was very, very clearly not great, he forced a smile the best he could. His emotions were displayed on his face as an item in a shop window, but he nonetheless did his best to preserve what pride he had left, knowing damn well that pride would be gone the moment anything actually scary happened.

George giggled again, searching Dream's expression, trying to gauge just how fearful the man was. "No reason, I guess." In mock acquiescence, he turned back to the screen, secretly shooting glances towards Dream every few seconds as the tension and horror escalated.

With a simple hum of acknowledgement, Dream reluctantly turned his focus back to the movie, occasionally giving a small squeeze to George's hand. He didn't even realize that he was doing it, but the repetitive reminder that the older was still beside him filled him with a comfort that he couldn't quite explain. However, the comfort was infinitesimal in comparison to the rising anticipation as the tension gradually raised. To his credit, he truly did try to hide his discomfort, but it was clear in his terrified pout and consistent nervous shifting - disguised poorly as readjusting - that he was scared, and would only continue to get more scared as the movie continued.

Eventually George got tired of only sneaking little glimpses of Dream in his peripheral and decided to elicit more reactions out of him in a more involved way, rather than just letting the movie do its thing. He teasingly muttered running commentary on the movie as the fear factor started ramping up. "Hey... that's the room... oh boy! He's going towards the room... what do you think is in the room?" 

There was a sick sense of pleasure he got from the utterances as Dream progressively got paler and more jumpy. After about the midway point when things were very much Not Okay with the family, George couldn't decide if the comments he was making were meant to soothe Dream or spook him, but he was having fun regardless.

At this point, Dream's pout had considerably deepened, and the poor boy was trying his best to subtly move further and further under the blanket. The comments were  _ definitely _ not helping, instead building further onto Dream's anxiety and anticipation. 

His attention was mostly on controlling his reactions, which meant squeezing George's hand less and trying to be less jumpy. Unfortunately, his efforts didn't do much for him. Eventually, he found that involuntary whimpers, though hardly audible, were slipping from his mouth with each creepy turn of the camera or loud noise.

George was initially amused and fascinated by the small noises Dream was producing. 

His thought process something along the lines of;  _ 'Those noises are cute, he's so cute, wait, what am I saying, no he isn't, he's just a homie who happens to make cute noises and have above average looks and okay let's just focus on the movie-' _ which wasn't wholly convincing as a smile permanently etched itself onto his face at the mindless thoughts bouncing around in his brain. 

Then the whimpers continued and his attitude changed to fascination;  _ 'Is he actually scared?? I've never found this movie scary yet he seems so on edge about it... Maybe he's just overacting for me? Or maybe he's genuinely terrified? Weird.' _

It was before the climax of the movie, the father finally snapping and the murderous rampage and bloodlust beginning, that George finally felt concern. Dream was all but screaming as he looked even paler than before, wide eyed and almost trembling. 

If George didn't know any better he'd say it looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. He had to force himself to not lean forward, grab the remote and pause the damn film. Instead, George offered a smaller reassuring squeeze on his hand, letting the action speak instead of voicing anything.

The action seemed to ground the trembling boy slightly, though it did earn a frightened jolt at first. However, he responded with a squeeze of acknowledgment, too far in denial to admit his clear fear out loud. Moving slightly closer to George, he guided their hands a bit closer to his chest, resting it there as he used his free hand to grab onto George's extended hand. His racing heartbeat thumped harshly against his chest, and if the other boy paid enough attention, he'd probably feel it. Dream didn't care though; he simply wanted the contact.

George's heart was racing at the brush of skin and the way his hand was being cupped so preciously - a mix between being treated like the prettiest pearl in the ocean and a lifeline that was stopping Dream from drowning. He could feel a similar heartbeat matching his own, wild and scared. He knew their fear came from different places and tried to ignore how reassuring and warm the steady the sporadic rhythm beneath his hand felt. 

The movie had ramped up, the father killing a man and trying to kill the mother and son and in an attempt to assuage Dream's fear, George whispered to him, "Look, like the meme!" His tone was lighthearted and he even gave a giggle, trying to calm the boy beside him. The movie was almost over anyway. He'd be fine.

Dream simply gave a half-hearted hum of acknowledgement, far too focused to actually process what was said to him. Anxieties swarmed his head as he stared the screen down, wondering whether the family would escape, and what the hell was up with the ghosts. 

Every time he got nervous, he'd squeeze George's hand lightly, releasing once whatever tense moment had occurred was over. Each time he caught sight of the father's crazed, soulless eyes, he'd let out something between an uncertain hum and a whimper. He was ready for the movie to be over.

George was utterly torn between finding the noises concerning or slightly addicting. For the sake of his friend, he chose the former. Despite his disbelief that anyone, especially Dream of all people, could be scared by The Shining, he tried his best to be comforting. George wasn't exactly well versed in the topic but he cuddled closer and brought up his other hand hesitantly. 

Stuck between wanting to help Dream as well as attaining more physical contact and not wanting to pass whatever fragile line and boundaries existed between them, he moved carefully. 

He placed his other hand across his chest to reach Dream's shoulder and began rubbing small circles against the fabric of his shirt. He hoped the pressure was grounding, maybe even a little distracting. 

As the movie reached its exciting conclusion and the action began dying down he couldn't help but revel in the closeness. They had sunk further into the blankets and as the horror dwindled so did his small movements, settling into more of a half hug than attempt to soothe Dream. George tried to convince himself the actions were solely for Dream. Not himself. Not at all.

The contact did wonders to soothe Dream's anxieties, distracting him greatly from the movie, though his heart was racing much further than before as he tried to think of anything besides how perfect the semi-hug felt. 

Every attempt he made to distract himself failed miserably though, as he found the calming circles being gently rubbed against him to be impossible to ignore. Hesitantly, Dream leaned into the other boy, muttering a quiet thanks. 

Dream’s cheeks burned brightly, though he wasn't sure if it was from shame or adoration. All he knew was that he never wanted this moment to end. Well- aside from the movie, of course. He was more than content with that damn movie ending.

The movie ended. It had to eventually. But in its wake, it would leave the messy question of what their position meant now that they sat in a darkened room illuminated solely by the black tv screen asking if it would like to watch something recommended.

George untangled himself from the embrace first, desperate to not face that question. He ignored how something inside him whimpered at the loss. 

Determined to not let awkwardness seep into the air between them, George asked, somewhat teasingly, "Did it really scare you that much?" He was pretty sure he knew the answer. And he also knew that Dream probably wouldn't give him a straight answer.  _ He tried not to think about the irony.  _ _ Was it still ironic if Dream was questioning? _ He internally shook the intrusive thoughts away and tried his best to give Dream a playful smile.

A small pout formed on Dream's face as he turned away, moving back to his side of the couch as he light-heartedly shot back, "You know, it's wild, I don't remember asking at all. Pretty sure no one asked, in fact." Now that he wasn't desperately clinging onto the poor boy beside him, it fully dawned on him just how embarrassing the situation was. He was rather certain now that the heat that continued to grow on his face was from shame, though he still couldn't quite say the same for earlier.

George wasn't phased in the slightest, if the comment had gotten to him, it didn't show. He blinked innocently and a sly grin filled his face. Dream has started this and George wasn't one to back down in the face of sass, even as the flushed face in front of him seemed to imply nothing short of a bruised ego. He would have fun bruising it further. "Really? Because I'm pretty sure if you shuddering like a baby in my arms isn't a cry for help and asking for attention, then I don't know what is." 

His heart hammered wildly. This was probably pushing it too far, and yet there was a sick sense of satisfaction digging his fingers into the fresh wound. But almost the second he spoke he wished he could take the words back, retract him mentioning the very thing he'd started this whole pretend squabble to distract himself from.

"Ironic," Dream began, pausing for just a moment to collect his thoughts, "I vividly remember it being  _ you _ who hugged  _ me _ , without me asking. And I wasn't  _ 'shuddering like a little baby'. _ " 

Okay, maybe the last part wasn't true- but it was the only thing that stopped him from softly adding to the beginning  _ 'not that I minded. Maybe you should do it again.' _ Instead, he stuck his tongue out, hoping that'd assure George that he was simply playing around.

George finally rose to the bait, growing flustered as he was called out. He was the one who had started it, but he wasn't really sure if he was capable of ending it. The tongue displayed to him only riled him up further. Dream really wanted to tease him right now? "W-well  _ excuse me _ for just trying to oh, I don't know, maybe comfort my- friend? My  _ bad _ for trying to be a  _ good friend _ . I didn't exactly feel you pulling away either,  _ Dream." _ He struggled and hesitated each time he said a strained "friend". 

George was aware his tone was probably venomous now, his self defense feeling like he was a wild animal chased into a corner with no choice but to lash back out. Why had they even started down this line of conversation? George couldn't remember, but his regret was increasing with each passing moment.

Sensing the rising hostility, Dream decided to simply back down, as much as his pride told him not to. "It's alright, it's alright. I never said it was a bad thing, you dork," He chuckled gently. 

An idea struck him, and without much thought, he reached over, grabbing George's hand and cheerfully explaining, "There, now we're kinda even!"

Any tension, insecurity or rising panic that fed into hostility immediately melted away at the touch. A sickening burn of anxiety fueled aggression was softened into a timid yet soothing warmth. He felt his jaw drop a little, for reasons unbeknownst to him. Closing his mouth to not look like a gaping fish, he settled back onto the couch. Finally feeling like he could breathe right again,  _ when had he stopped? _ he offered Dream a small, sheepish smile. "Dork?"

"Yeah, dork," Dream responded, giving a tiny squeeze of reassurance to George's hand. As he gazed at the boy, his eyes betrayed every effort he made to hide the fondness and adoration he felt. There was something so peculiar about George, something he couldn't quite describe. It was as if every time they locked eyes, the rest of the world vanished, along with all of his worries. In its place was the warmth of his tender and timid touch that left Dream feeling both refreshed and suffocated. Maybe George would be the death of him, but that seemed like such a small price to pay for such a lovely smile.

George was off tonight, it was apparent. He was overreacting, letting the littlest things get to him. But most of all, he was letting the way Dream looked at him affect him most. The gaze left George breathless. With their eyes interlocked, barely daring to breathe, George searched Dream's eyes. No malice, no hatred, no doubt, only appreciation laid in his eyes. And although appreciation seemed to be a shallow word to describe the emotion, George was scared to prod further, to label it. To raise his hopes. 

His actions tonight all stemmed from the same budding emotion in his heart and he refused to acknowledge it. In the midst of his inner turmoil, he hadn't noticed himself slowly inching forward, his face creeping up close to Dream's. 

George stopped himself, what exactly was he hoping to achieve like this anyway? Turning his head aside, falling back onto the couch cushions and gently tugging his hand out of Dream's, he looked to the TV. "Are we going to watch something else?"

Dream was quiet for a few moments, pouting at the loss of contact. It sent him spiraling back into reality, reminding him of the hurtful truth; the last thing George needed in his life was another clueless, questioning guy to stumble in, claim his heart for a few months, then leave. As good and pure as Sapnap's intentions may have been, their relationship clearly left some scars, and it would be cruel of him to risk doing the same. 

With a deep breath, and a deep shove down of his emotions, he put on a polite smile, shrugging as he responded, "Whatever you'd like!"

" _ 'Whatever' _ ?" George challenged with a grin and hold on the remote that made it seem like Dream would regret his words.

Dream gulped, already regretting his words as he buried himself in the blankets. From his pile of protection against whatever popped onto the screen, he mumbled incoherent things about horror and rom-coms being the death of him.

Typing in the familiar movie title, " _ Sleepless in Seattle _ " George rolled his eyes. "Okay, ghost and scary movies, I can understand," he acquiesced "but I still don't get the vendetta against rom coms." The movie started playing and George draped himself over the armrest away from Dream. He had a sneaking suspicion that distance would help stop the confusing mess swirling inside his mind that consisted of nothing but thoughts of Dream.

"Another rom com?" Dream questioned, sounding both amused and unimpressed as he grinned over at the other, pretending the distance didn't send a sharp pang through his heart. "You know, for someone against dating, you seem to be really into cheesy romance stories."

George gave a nervous laugh, giving Dream a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Of course. Things always work out in movies. Life isn't always as clean..." he could feel the fake enthusiasm slipping away as he kept talking. He turned back to the TV with a heavy heart. "So yeah, Sleepless in Seattle has a series of events that make no sense, and everyone starts out sad in the beginning and shit, but it all works out." He looked back at Dream with a smaller more sincere smile, as if afraid to share this with him. "Isn't that cool?"

As his grin melted into a gentle smile, Dream nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it is pretty cool. But... real life can work out sometimes too. If there's anything to take away from these cheesy, perfect worlds - it's that you gotta take a chance, y'know?" He rambled, voice quieting more and more with each word until he was barely whispering.

George felt warm all over. What had started out as a pretty dismal escapist, cynical conversation had bloomed into an optimistic hope for the future. Surely he didn't mean Leave it up to Dream to make him question the very way he viewed his dreary life. He quickly looked away, the nearly uncomfortable feverishness spreading across his body, starting from his cheeks. "I... I guess?" George didn't even want to try and start overthinking Dream's words, try to start decoding and analyzing whatever the hell his metaphor meant.

"Y'know..." Dream began, thinking his next words over carefully. He saw his chance, from the blooming blush on George's cheek - he had to be careful with how he took it, though. 

"For what it's worth... I'm glad you took a chance with me, back at the baking class. I mean, you didn't have much choice - but still, you didn't  _ have _ to help me. Now look where we are," Once again, he was rambling, sounding rather pleased with the outcome of their situation. It seemed like it'd been years since they crashed into each other in that maze of hallways.

The movie was completely forgotten as George stared at Dream. He wouldn't overthink this.  _ He would  _ **_not_ ** _ overthink this. _ He wouldn't let himself. Dream was a bro. A homie. A- A- George's mind failed to come up with any other words that weren't unsolicited as they were shouted from the back of his mind.  _ A cutie, a really nice guy, just his type, pure boyfriend material, way more than a friend. _ He ignored them. George smiled. "It'd kind of make me an asshole if I just left my table partner out to dry with his horrible brownie mix." He ignored the pounding of his heart.

"Table partner?" Dream laughed out, locking gazes with George and he moved a bit closer. "Oh come on now, I'm sure I've earned a better title than  _ table partner _ . After all of our never-have-i-ever games and dinner d-... hang outs?" With the cutest puppy eyes he could manage, he pouted his lips slightly, though the teasing confidence swam clearly in his eyes.

Their gazes were broken as George glanced down to the shagged carpet covering the wooden floor between them and the TV. He tried to back up further, to not let himself fall into Dream's arms and lose every defense he'd built up. He only found the armrest of the couch.

"I meant when we first met, idiot." George snarked quietly with a tiny, hesitant smile. He didn't need to look back up at Dream to know that his expression would probably just make him feel even warmer. What did he want? He was so sick of this game of cat and mouse and second guessing himself and every single move Dream made. The way he felt his heart be set aflame more than any amount of flirting ever had with Sapnap or random stranger in a bar. 

Was any of it intentional? 

The lingering touches and soft moments between them suggested otherwise... and even in that moment of weakness... well Dream  _ might _ not be entirely straight. He moved to grab the remote and click off the TV. He could barely hear himself think over the background noise of Sleepless in Seattle.

In a moment of blind brashness, he decided to voice his thoughts. Disregarding all the distractions and veiled intentions and so with a whisper soft voice with furrowed brows, he asked, "What do you want?" He lifted his eyes to search Dream's.

"What do I want...?" Dream echoed, his confidence washed away as the soft whisper struck straight through his now wildly beating heart. What did he want, and how much was he ready to say? He'd let his stupid cockiness get the best of him, and now here he was, wondering if he should lie and risk hurting George, or tell the truth and risk scaring him off? Truly, he was an enigma, of the likes Dream was far unprepared to deal with. Yet, he felt a cheeky smile grow on his lips as he questioned, "Do you really wanna know?"

George didn't know if the familiar smile was comforting or unnerving. On one hand, he wanted to know more than anything and his smile was so confident, so assured in what he believed. He was safe and fine. No matter the outcome. But... on the other hand, what if Dream  _ did _ say he wanted something more? The very thought sent shivers down his spine, butterflies fluttering in his stomach, his head full of nothing but Dream. Then the reality of it ending the exact same way that it had with Sapnap had a wave of nausea and anxiety overwhelming him. His track record with questioning dudes wasn't exactly inspiring. But... sometimes risks were worth taking. Dream was worth the risk. George was unsure if he was still breathing when he nodded tightly.

"I want..." Dream began, feeling anxiety begin to grow in his chest. It stole the words from his mouth, erasing every smooth thought in his brain and leaving him hopeless. 

_ 'You. I want you. I want you so bad. God I want you. Please.' _

The words danced on the tip of his tongue, though all that slipped out was, "I want the courage to tell you."

George's expression fell. His heart sank and he felt every optimistic thought sour before it even had the chance to ripen. "You..." he choked out, almost rendered speechless in his disbelief. 

George curled up in his corner of the couch, lifting his knees to his chest and resting his sock clad feet on the edge of the couch pillow. His stupid racing heart hadn't stilled its frantic rhythm despite his agitation at the stupid blond, if anything it'd only gotten worse. 

He could probably predict his next words, something like,  _ "I want to love you, but..." _ or something equally bittersweet because that's just the kind of golden hearted soul Dream was. 

George was patient. 

He could wait for his rejection and wallow in this comfortable uncertainty until then. 

"You're  _ such _ an idiot." George mumbled into his knee, once more reaching forward to grab the remote and press play. Maybe he had been right earlier. 

Things only ever work out in movies.

Anxiety bubbled in Dream, burning like stomach acid and piercing like a knife straight through his heart as the pain of rejection infected his brain. 

Of course George wouldn't like him; he didn't want a relationship in the first place, let alone with a confused idiot like him. It wasn't fair of him to want that from George when the poor boy clearly wasn't over Sapnap. He'd been stupid- no, selfish to expect any feelings to be returned. Of course he had to go and ruin a good thing with his dumb, complicated feelings.

Doubts swarmed his thoughts, attacking any sense of security Dream had developed about his sexuality. Maybe he'd enjoyed the light-hearted flirtatiousness of their relationship a bit too much and read too far into it. Maybe he was just lonely and convinced himself that he had feelings for the other. 

Maybe Dream just wanted an excuse for the pain he was feeling. Either way, Dream buried it as far down as it could go, and turned his attention to the movie.   
  
As George continued watching the actors, his chest felt tight, he could barely stand to watch the characters happily fall in love, overcome all adversaries, any obstacle, feelings barely came into question when it was so apparent how the two felt. 

He felt sick. 

He couldn't stand it. 

The sappy romcom, which normally he would've loved to indulge in and escape his shitty life now felt suffocating. The awkward tension between him and Dream as they watched in silence didn't help either. 

He wanted to chuck a remote straight through the screen and swear off any sort of relationship altogether; clearly romantic ones didn't end well and now Dream was breathing evidence that platonic ones wouldn't either. 

George stood, out of the blue from the couch, he could feel his heart racing and eyes pricking at the inevitable scenario of Dream politely rejecting him sometime in the near future. 

"I-I think I'm going to go. It's getting late." He managed to force the words out of his tightening throat.

"I can drive you, uber can be kinda sketchy, and public transportation's even worse," Dream offered, already standing to fetch his keys. As much as he wanted to hide away from the suffocatingly awkward air between them, he'd happily deal with it for longer if it meant getting George home safely.   
  
"No, no," George said, rushing the words like if he took any longer he'd crack and tumble to pieces. He took a few hasty steps back blinking rapidly and refusing to let tears fall. "I'll be fine. Really. It can't be worse than the tube at three am. Thank you again for everyth- uh, your hospitality, I'll just," he took another shaky breath and ignored Patches as he side stepped her to get to the door. 

"I'll just get out of your hair now."

A sad mewl came from the kitty, who stared up at him with wide, hurt eyes. Further behind her was Dream, who had the same pained look on his face as she did. 

Despite his brain screaming at him to stop the boy, he fumbled for excuses to keep him there, eventually pitifully stammering out, "Are- are you sure?"

He shoved his feet into his shoes, not really caring how the outsides folded in. "Yes." His voice was unintentionally cold, hardened by the pain sharpening his tongue. 

He tried to relax himself. His lack of female gender and not being Dream's type wasn't the other man's fault, he had no right to snap like this at him. He tried to relax his voice as he tried again, "Yeah, I'm sure." It wasn't much better, but at least he didn't sound like he wanted to gut Dream for literally nothing. 

His waistcoat dangled mockingly as he readied himself to leave. It had been so fucking stupid of him to dress up for what he even half considered a date. George was an idiot. 

An idiot who felt on the edge. 

He just needed to leave,  _ immediately _ . 

George paused in the door frame for a moment to look back, not daring to meet Dream's eyes. "Thanks again, Dream."

"You can come back whenever," Dream offered uncertainly, a pout forming on his lips despite his best efforts to stop it. Patches approached the door, letting out a loud meow as she stared up at him, as if she were confused about his sudden departure.

George nodded, unsure if he would or even wanted to come back. He wasn't sure how their relationship would look after Dream gently broke it to him. 

_ Relationship _ . 

There was that fucking word again. 

As he closed the door behind him without a peep, he stepped into the humid sticky Florida night and tried to eradicate the word from the English language through sheer willpower. 

He was better off on his own, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to AO3 statistics you should kudos for more awesome writing and subscribe for when we post the exciting conclusio- *gets shot*


	7. ...And I Guess I Never Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream and George talk it out. When the misunderstandings are finally cleared, it'll be fine... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things have to get worse before they get better :)

Dream  
  
Can we talk?  
  
Oh god sorry for the infamous "can we talk", you're not in trouble or anything lol   
  
sure  
  
haha phew glad we could clear that up, for a second I thought bad had texted to scold me  
  
Basically I wanted to apologize for making things awkward a few days ago? I didn't mean to push any boundaries  
  
...  
  
push boundaries?  
  
what do you mean?  
  
Well it wasn't fair of me to push that onto you out of nowhere. I read things wrong and that was totally on me, I'm sorry.  
  
Also I'm sure you don't wanna deal with another questioning idiot anyways, which is completely valid  
  
wait hold on  
  
Dream what are you talking about  
  
???  
  
George please don't tease me right now I'm being serious  
  
Dream I genuinely have no idea what youre going on about  
  
The fact that youre questioning is fine  
  
I wouldn't judge you any more or less just because you don't know which gender you wanna stick your dick in lol  
  
....George. Oh my god.  
  
When I said "I wish I had the courage to tell you" I was confessing.  
  
And I'm sorry for that  
  
wait wait wait  
  
confessing???  
  
wait  
  
like  
  
confessing feelings? for me??   
  
wait  
  
why are you apologizing?  
  
Isn't that why you were uncomfortable last night???  
  
And I'm apologizing bc it's not fair to you, for me to push my feelings onto you when weren't even looking for a relationship, let alone with a questioning idiot after everything that went down with Sapnap  
  
oh my god  
  
no thats not why i was  
  
oh my god  
  
hold on give me a second  
  
I need a moment to think  
  
Take your time  
  
fuck Dream  
  
I liked you  
  
That night i thought you noticed my feelings for you  
  
I thought you were trying to reject me  
  
Oh  
  
Oh fuck  
  
No no I just wanted the courage to tell you how I feel  
  
Fuck I don't wanna hurt you, George. It was almost easier thinking you didn't like me, bc at least I thought I couldn't make things worse  
  
...i get that  
  
youre too nice dream  
  
god i want to kiss you so bad  
  
i want to hold you and cuddle with patches until we see the morning sun and we still havent gone to bed because were still giggling about some dumb shit youve brought up but refuse to let go off because your mind wont let you  
  
you make me feel safe dream  
  
loved  
  
it’s cruel  
  
thinking that we could have that when the truth is you dont know if thats what you want at all and i-  
  
i dont think i could stand whatever comes next  
  
you decide that men arent your speed, that im not the cute brunette girl you couldve met during that class  
  
and then its over.  
  
fuck i shouldnt have said anything  
  
i just...  
  
i love you so much its almost scary  
  
and if i have to love you as a friend then thats fine with me  
  
i just dont want whatevers between us to be so broken that talking to you is painful  
  
i want you in my life, dream  
  
is that selfish?  
  
If that's selfish, then we're both selfish, because there's nothing I'd like more than that.  
  
But I'm not ready to hurt you. I wanna be more than friends, but we should just be friends, at least while I'm figuring things out.  
  
yeah  
  
Friends  
  
I can do that  
  
I guess ill see you at class tomorrow?  
  
Yeah  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're,,, sorry? ":D 
> 
> Drop a kudos for happy ending!! >:D 
> 
> jk jk they'll get there regardless (altho that kudos would be appreciated :3c)


	8. Never Have I Ever Met Denser Idiots Than These Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you need to chase after the things you love.

George arrived early to class, with a plan and a racing pulse that threatened to make him hop back on the bus, go back home and crawl under the covers to fall asleep and pretend like none of this had happened. But he was stronger than that, he'd  _ be  _ better than that for Dream. He didn't deserve the same treatment Sapnap had received. 

As George glanced around the room, it was a relief to see both men in question not there yet. A couple of early birds milled about, some still introducing themselves and others looking quite familiar and happy indeed. Not just happy, George noted sourly, in love. 

He spared the usual work table he and Dream usually shared, a small glance before walking away from it to go introduce himself to some of the other people here. He still wasn't looking to date, especially not with such an ambiguous, masochistic relationship looming in his life. George told people as such, most making a small noise of disappointment before moving on. 

He met all sorts of people and was almost guilty for not having interacted more with them earlier. He rationalized that this was Bad's class, not his and he owed none of these strangers an introduction. One of the classmates he did grace with a greeting was a petite brunette who looked lost even as they entered the 4th class. Or was it the third? George couldn't remember. They were almost a month in but time had seemed to fly, passed in a cotton candy filled daze.

His attention was brought back to the girl when she continued talking, explaining how she was super nervous but ready and looking for love. She looked like Dream's type. Not that he knew Dream's type, but a bitter pang filled his heart as he imagined how nicely she would fit into his arms as they snuggled on a couch. He gave her a strained grin. He could be a good friend to Dream. 

"There's gonna be a guy coming in here, tall, kinda good looking, blondish. He'll need a partner if you wanna go wait over by that table." He had said, the words leaving his lips like traitorous venom. She gave him a confused yet appreciative look as she walked to where George had pointed. 

Amidst the other newly greeted people, George had also found someone willing to to partner with him. Someone tall, though not as tall as Dream. He had blond hair and was somehow blonder than Dream's but not at all more appealing. His frame was also more muscular than Dream and on any other occasion, George might take the time to soak in the gaze and appreciate the honed muscle, but he found he just couldn't be bothered. 

He cursed internally as every single feature about his new table buddy only led back to thinking about the dirty blond with the sweeter smile, the cleverer quips, the honey gold eyesーGeorge noted that the man now peering down at him had dark blueish eyes. His favorite color and yet, not his favorite eyes. 

"You alright?" The guy, John he thought his name was, asked. George blinked back into reality, stopping his intense scrutinization of poor John. 

John was easy on the eyes and from the sounds of it a decently nice person who had the courtesy of being worried about a man who so far had only demonstrated any real skill in ogling him. But he wasn't Dream. 

Fuck, his attempts at being a good friend were already starting to go down the drain.

George offered a teeny sheepish smile to John, probably looking more weary than anything else. "Yeah, I'm alright. Just... had a rough night you know?" 

John made a noncommittal noise of agreement before giving him a once over. George shied beneath the look, and hastily looked away to maybe look through the recipe or something. Anything to take his mind off of having to put up with a stranger for the next hour or so. Unfortunately before he managed to grab the papers, his gaze landed on a familiar freckled face that was walking through the door.

As much as Dream was dreading the awkward interactions he knew would ensue, he found himself looking forward to seeing those familiar brown eyes that always housed a beautiful mixture of mischief and curiosity. As soon as he'd made his way through the labyrinth of halls and to the classroom he'd somehow come to love, he walked in with expertly faked confidence. However, nothing could stop the confused frown that spread across his face as he watched George smile over at his new partner. His replacement, apparently.

Dream wanted to hate him. He truly did. But as he stared at the blond, who flashed a charming smile as a greeting when they locked gazes, he couldn't help but notice how much... well, better the other was. 

It was like staring at a more perfect version of him. Just one look shot a pang of anger and jealousy through Dream, so intense he could've fled and never returned. But he supposed he couldn't blame George for moving on, as quickly as that was, since Dream was the one who suggested they remain friends.

A voice broke through his pain and betrayal, that he hid so delicately behind a confused frown, greeting him with a soft, "Hello?"

The voice belonged to a woman, who peered at him from the table he and George had shared before. With a bright smile and a nervous wave, it almost broke him to see a friendlier, female version of George. She was so much like him, so lively and bubbly, it almost shocked him that he hadn't immediately fallen. Any other day, he would've obsessed immediately, offering her whatever affection and gifts she desired until she fell as hard as he had. Instead, all he could think about was how she looked like she could star in George's next favorite rom com.

"Oh, hi!" Dream chirped, flashing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as he moved to take his old spot. His hands trembled as he copied her wave, earning an affectionate giggle from the girl.

"I'm Sarah! Your friend told me you'd need a partner!" She chirped, tucking her hair behind her ear as she gave her explanation. The words only further wounded the boy as he fought the urge to glance back at George, instead murmuring about how kind that was of him.

George had forgone any sort of conversation John was trying to make to peek over at how things were going with what's-her-face and Dream. He saw her antics, a flirtatious giggle here and a sweet smile there. But more importantly he saw Dream's reaction, a smile and he convinced himself as he turned back to John, that was all he could ask for. He tried to make himself cheer up. They were hitting off, this is what a good friend would do, right? 

His attention was once more broken by the door swinging open and despite his attention needing to be focused on his new table partner, he looked to the door. Sapnap met his eyes from the doorway. Recognition lit Sapnap's eyes and he gave a small wave. 

Then his gaze traveled to the left and to John. Confusion flooded his expression. Sapnap's brows furrowed as he glanced over to where Dream was talking with Sarah, then back to George. The George in question turned away, in shame as he was unable to bring himself to meet Sapnap’s inquisitive look. 

Sapnap pondered what the hell was happening, last class they were practically in each other's laps and now they were at different tables? Something wasn't adding up. 

Deciding he'd find someone to buddy with later, he walked over to Dream. While he was thrilled Dream was actually talking to someone (someone who definitely looked ready to date), he needed answers. He cracked a lopsided grin as he stepped within talking range of Dream. 

"Hey, Dream! What's up?" Sapnap kept it light, informal, even as he inspected his friend's face, searching like if he'd stare long enough he'd figure out what was happening.

"Oh, um, not much? Just meeting someone new, I guess?" Dream awkwardly explained, mentally begging for Sapnap to save him from this mess he'd created. As childish as the other could be sometimes, no one knew him nearly as well, and no one saved him from these situations nearly as often. So, as he maintained his smile, he gave a flash of a pleading look, before returning back to his faked happiness.

Sapnap's furrowed, baffled look returned, barely able to contain his complete cluelessness. But there was one thing he knew and that was that Dream needed an out. 

"Hey uh, I really need to use the bathroom and I have like no idea where it is," he turned to the girl by Dream's side. "Is it okay if I steal him before class starts?" He could tell she was about to start protesting, possibly even give him directions so he could go alone, so he quickly grabbed Dream's hand and flashed her his brightest smile. 

"'Kay, thanks!" Sapnap exclaimed, pulling Dream out of the room before she could question what the hell was happening. He was faintly aware of a different brown haired gaze following them as he pulled Dream out of the classroom.

Sapnap couldn't help the laugh that escaped him when the door slammed shut behind them. The poor bewildered look from the girl was great, if not making him feel a little guilty. "Dude," He stopped laughing. "that was kinda funny not gonna lie." 

He caught his breath before getting more serious, demanding, "Now spill. Why am I anti-wing-manning you from a girl who seems really nice? Why do you look so tired? And most importantly, why does George keep staring at you like you stole candy from a baby and that baby was him and that candy also happened to be you?"

Dream stared as Sapnap, finding himself at a loss for words as a million different explanations attempted to form in his brain, all falling flat. The moment he opened his mouth to explain himself, his lip quivered, and water filled his eyes. Instead of speaking, he wrapped his friend in a tight hug, hiding his face in the soft white fabric of Sapnap's shirt. 

Small tremors shook through his body as he fought back tears, emotional exhaustion finally bleeding through the defense he'd tried so hard to set up for the day. All he could manage was a soft, "Thank you."

"Yeah. Of course, dude." Sapnap insisted softly. He quickly went into protective panicky friend mode, wrapping his arms back around Dream and rubbing his hands soothingly along his shoulder blades. 

Concern washed away any teasingness he had been planning to put Dream through. Instead, he pushed back Dream enough to look into his face and winced at the exhaustion that seemed to go further than his face and sink heavy into his posture and mannerisms. "Dream, what the heck happened?"

"I caught feelings for George, man. I caught them hard. But I don't wanna hurt him, and I told him that. He said he's falling for me, and I got scared. It was all going so fast and I just- I- I panicked, and said we should just be friends until I figure things out, 'cause I didn't even think I was into boys a month ago. But now he's sitting with Dream 2.0 and set up some girl for me to sit with and I'm just... I'm not ready, dude. I don't wanna move on, and as selfish as it is, I don't want him to move on. I just needed time, but now he's replacing me and trying to get me to replace him, and- and- fuck, I'm so confused, and I know it's my fault, but it still hurts like hell," Dream rambled rapidly, hoping if he got the words out fast enough, his emotions wouldn't catch up to him.

"Woahh, woah, calm down" placated Sapnap, like he was trying to tame a wild horse rather than comfort his best friend. He rubbed Dream's bicep and encouraged Dream to look at him. 

"That's... a lot," Sapnap admitted. "But for what it's worth, that guy doesn't have anything on you aside from maybe functioning ears. Did you hear a word I said? George isn't replacing you. He keeps staring at you. Not "Dream 2.0", but you. And I'm no expert on this stuff, but knowing George, this is his way of trying to distance himself from you and be a giant pussy. Listen, George isn't the most observant or the most agreeable or-" he struggled over his words. "The most in touch with his feelings and how to show them, and yeah, things didn't end the best with us, but that's not an excuse for him. The fact that he's in there at all is more than I got." There was no real malice nor jealousy in his voice, just half-fond exasperation. 

"Leaving things like this is gonna hurt you both," Sapnap claimed, his tone stern. He cracked a grin, "You clearly like him, he obviously likes you, why not just bang and see how you feel about it after?" 

At Dream’s look of unamused disbelief, he laughed, quickly following up with a "Kidding, kidding! But seriously, you two need to talk. He's not a mind reader and neither are you... I think." Sapnap gave a theatrical display of suspicion. "Or maybe you are... no you definitely aren't, or else you'd be able to tell how irredeemably smitten George is with you." Sapnap gave a sharp bark of a laugh. 

"Now, let's go get your mans." Urging Dream back into the main room, Sapnap's face fell when he saw the class all there and Bad at the front, ready to begin class. He whispered into Dream's ear, "or go get him, after you finish baking whatever we're making today." 

Sapnap glanced over at Sarah where she stood wringing her hands, waiting, then back to Dream. "Do you need me to go make an excuse or something to avoid her?"

Dream shook his head, flashing a grateful smile to Sapnap before moving back to his spot by Sarah. He'd at least wait the class out - he owed her that much. Besides, he definitely wasn't ready to deal with his problems yet, as desperately as he wanted to. The best he could do for now was awkwardly stammer out a plea for attention that'd result in more shame than he'd already experienced. 

"Hey! Sorry for leaving, didn't want the poor guy to get lost," He laughed out an explanation to Sarah, who gave a giggle in response.

Watching the disaster unfold, an unamused but unsurprised frown worked its way onto Sapnap's face. Knowing his mess of a friend would only keep putting things off, he decided to take matters into his own hands, ignoring the fact that trying to control Dream's love life was what got them in this mess in the first place.

With a lazy grin but a mischievous glint in his eyes, he made his way to George and John's table, giving a nod of a greeting. 

"Hey, I don't suppose you guys have room for one more? Everyone else is partnered up already," He requested, staring straight into George's eyes as he spoke.

George's eyebrows twitched in irritation. But his mild agitation was hidden beneath a cool smile that seemed perfectly friendly to those who didn't know him. Those like John who seemed happy enough to let Sapnap join. George was about to say something, probably nasty, when John gave a jovial, "Sure!" and George's face blanched in horror. 

Sure maybe after last class they were on slightly better terms, but George couldn't recall the last time he'd held a proper conversation with Sapnap without turning to bloodshed. Great. Now he was stuck with an ex he was barely reacquainted with and a guy who kinda seemed kinda interested in him, meanwhile Dream was over there laughing up a storm with Sandra or whatever. 

George regretted sending her his way. Then he felt guilty for his regret. He was just trying to be a good friend after all. 

George didn't even realize he was staring at Dream again until he had to look back up at Sapnap who seemed to be watching his every move with great amusement. 

George scoffed, turning away with a flushed face. "Sure, whatever, Sappitus. You're probably only here for the baker partner perks anyway."

"Well, that was definitely the icing on the cake. Speaking of which, how the hell do we make a cake?" Sapnap questioned, moving to stand in between John and George as he read over the recipe. As he read, he chuckled out, "I bet Dream's gonna ruin this cake before it even hits the oven." At the mention of the blond's name, he glanced over at George, trying to catch any reaction possible.

Meanwhile, Dream was already struggling not to ruin the cake. He was praying his partner would find his helplessness to be obnoxious, but unfortunately, she seemed to find it endearing, laughing lightly as she guided him through each step. 

His cheeks were flushed bright red, though out of embarrassment, as he mumbled apologies for each mistake he made. Every single step brought a new disaster, from too much of one ingredient to not enough of another to using the wrong ingredient entirely. Yet Sarah was gentle and motherly towards him, to the point he felt like a child. 

He found himself missing the teasing insults and last minute rescues over this teacher-like approach. With a quiet sigh, he glanced back to George's group, raising an eyebrow at the sight of Sapnap.

George tensed, resisting the urge to look at Dream. He wouldn't play into whatever dumb mind game Sapnap was trying to play with him. He started sorting the ingredients to distract himself. "Some friend you are, I think he'll do fine. He's not a total lost cause, we made the best brownies on day one," he boasted. 

George spared Sapnap a look of distaste."If anything I should be concerned about our cake because you're here."

John looked between the two before giving an awkward fake cough and picking up the recipe, trying to defuse whatever the hell he'd been caught in between. "Uh, I'm sure if we work together, it'll be fine." He looked over at the table the two had been talking about. "And if your buddy Dream is struggling, I wouldn't worry too much. Looks like that girl he's with has him covered." 

George caved, whipping his head to follow the direction John had motioned to. His face fell for a split second before he turned back with stony neutrality. The poor plastic bowl he grabbed suffered as he set it down a little too forcefully, making a harsh thunk. He began putting in the ingredients with clinical precision and downcast eyes. He didn't want to see Sapnap's stupid smirk.

"Aw, c'mon Georgie. I'm way better at baking than Dream is, and you two seemed to do great together. Besides, we've got this guy whose name I definitely know, we'll be fine," Sapnap assured, sparing an apologetic look to John before turning his attention to the poorly hidden agitation radiating from George. 

As much as he wanted to spare the bowl from the mistreatment they were witnessing, he decided to give the other a moment to get some emotions out of his system. Instead, Sapnap turned to observe John's work, figuring his help would be more appreciated with their poor partner.

Although things were going much more smoothly for Dream, he certainly wasn't feeling much better. He stared at the ingredients surrounding him, half tempted to purposely mess up as terribly and rapidly as possible, as if George would swoop in and fix it for him before Sarah could give her motherly guidance. Instead, as his smile became more and more clearly faked, he slowly backed off, staring with disinterest as he let his partner take control of the cake. 

It wasn't like watching George bake, when he could tell the boy was in his zone and thriving. It was boring, like watching some baking show his parents would have on the TV, when the contestant was clearly just trying to impress the people around him. Each time she turned to check for his approval, he poured all of his effort into wearing a wide smile and nodding proudly, dropping it each time she turned away. As he turned his gaze to the clock, all he could wonder was when class would end.

John nodded at Sapnap as he approached, offering his hand out with a congenial expression. "The name's John, it's nice to meet you new table buddy. I take it you already know George?" The man kept his words light and easy, mixing his bowl as he made conversation. George barely even lifted his head to glance at the two before returning to his baking.

"Yep! We're old friends, recently reacquainted thanks to this class. When'd you two meet?" Sapnap questioned with a curious hum, deciding to work on the icing as each of his partners worked on their own cakes. In all truthfulness, baking was one of his worst skills, but he wasn't particularly worried about his task. His sole objective here was to wingman for two gay disasters, and there was no way he'd let two unsuspecting bystanders get in the way. Besides, if he messed up terribly enough, then maybe John would lose interest in George. He had faith Dream could mess up his cake well enough on his own.

"About 15 minutes ago," John replied with a hearty chuckle. "I mean he went around greeting everyone and eventually asked if I wanted to join him. Something about needing a partner." His smile broadened as he shot a hopeful glance towards George. "Guess I was the lucky chosen one. I mean really, how could I say no?" 

If George had heard him, he didn't give an acknowledgement.

John didn't elaborate further, instead electing to peer down into Sapnap's bowl and give the owner an amused yet questioning look. "You'll want to add more confectioners sugar to help thicken that out, bud."

George finally glanced up at his table partners, looking at John with a slight awe. "You're a baker?" His first calm words since Sapnap had arrived were laced with a hint of curiosity.

Sapnap huffed, rather agitated that his plan had backfired into common ground between them. What even was  _ confectioners sugar _ anyways? Bakers were insufferable. Biting back a second huff, he did his best to follow the advice, silently plotting a way to get George alone. He needed to figure out how to get the two idiots to actually talk through their emotions, and their two new partners were certainly not helping. However, as he saw John begin to leave to put his cake in the oven, a brilliant idea sparked. 

"Hey John, could you take George's cake too? I gotta talk to him about something," Sapnap requested, flashing his signature lazy grin as he glanced back and forth between the two, before settling his gaze on the blond.

John gave a thumbs up, taking the cake and leaving the two to do their thing. He didn't appear too particularly bothered as he left. He hadn't exactly been making any progress with the ultimate objective of the class anyhow. 

George tried to protest, but John moved too quickly before he could insist on accompanying him. He crossed his arms as he watched John walk away with his cake in tow. George gave Sapnap a weary side-eye. "So, you wanted " _ a talk _ "?"

"John's pretty cool, hm? Maybe even your type. You gonna take him on a date anytime soon?" Sapnap questioned, leaning against the counter as he peered at the brunet, poorly concealing the knowing grin that tugged at his lips.

George went wide-eyed, mouth agape. "What?!" he spluttered, so taken aback by the sudden question he very nearly stumbled. Regaining his composure he gave Sapnap a nasty glare. "What the hell is wrong with you, Sapnap?? I didn't come here to date. Not that it's any of your business anyhow."

Sapnap sighed, hardly resisting the urge to fire back with some comeback. As much as he wanted to defend his pride, it wouldn't change anything. Before he could fix things for George and Dream, he clearly had to fix things between them. "Look, George, I get why you hate me.” George’s face twisted in guilt, looking like he was trying to protest but Sapnap continued, “I know I hurt you, and I know it wasn't fair of me to drag things out for so long. I wish you hadn't ghosted me, though. We never got to fix things, and look where we are now. We said we'd be friends, dude. Even if I don't love you, I don't want you out of my life. And I'm sorry for hurting you, honestly. I wish I could go back, knowing all that I know now, and just be your friend from the start," He began, staring at the ground as he softly explained himself.

"But I can't. Man, I just wanna be your friend. I wanna fix everything for you, for Dream, for me- for everyone. And sure, I know I can't just open up for a few moments and call it all good. But at the very least, I want you to know I'm sorry. I'll say it however many times you need to hear it. You don't even have to forgive me, just hearing me out is enough." With that, Sapnap finally looked up at George, a look of sincerity and concern finally washing away the lazy smirk he'd worn throughout most of the class.

George was rendered almost speechless, all frustration having left his body, he was left in a stupor. He bite his lip, letting Sapnap's words wash over him with all the grace of a riptide. Clenching and unclenching his hands he finally looked back at Sapnap. 

The sincere look only made this all the more difficult. "I... I don't know how long it'll take for me to forgive you," George started, every word oozing with uncertainty. "But I want to. What you did to me was shitty and I feel like I'll always carry it with me," He gave a short bitter laugh that came out sounding choked. "But what I did was shittier. I acted out of fear and weakness and-" George faltered as he looked back down. "I ran. I- I needed the space and time to get over you, but how I went about it was all wrong. I'm the one who should be sorry." 

He met Sapnap's eyes. "I won't apologize for the space, but I  _ will  _ apologize for my behavior and letting it sit like this." His teeth tugged at the bottom of his lip again as he looked around the kitchen as if maybe there was a magical pastry laying around that could fix everything. He only found his roaming eyes landed on Dream. George quickly averted his gaze back to Sapnap. 

He pondered what to say, should he admit that this class and meeting Dream had been the only real thing to help him fully get over Sapnap? As the realization struck him it only made him feel worse about the current situation between the two of them.

George said his next words carefully, like traveling over a glass roof that could cave at any moment. "I... really liked you but I think I'm ready to move on. I know I'm a bit of an asshole sometimes, and I don't know how much you can  _ fix  _ anything," another short laugh bark escaped him, though this one was more exhausted than spiteful, "but... I'd like you back in my life. And I think I'm actually ready to give this whole friendship thing a shot. Although, you should be warned, I've proven to be pretty bad at it so far." 

He tried to end his rambly spiel with a teasing tone, though it felt forced when this situation was resolved, forcing him to remember his other one with Dream. He let his disheartened eyes wander to Dream again.

"Maybe it's a sign you two should be more than friends," Sapnap half-teased, his tone light as he nudged George with his elbow. As he followed George's gaze to Dream, he frowned at the pitiful sight. The poor boy was zoned way out as Sarah walked off with their cake, which was far too perfect to have been touched by Dream. A deep frown covered his freckled face, accompanied by the occasional huff of boredom. "I mean, come on, he looks like a puppy waiting for his owner to come home. You can't tell me doesn't miss you."

George went back to the station with an angry huff, absently scrubbing at the surface with his fingernails to try and get some dough off before it hardened. "Sure he misses me, but what if it's not in the same way I do?" It occurred to him how selfish the words sounded so he quickly followed it up with, "I mean, he's just questioning and he doesn't even know if he  _ actually _ likes guys and he's been hitting it off with Sarah and- and..." He trailed off as his incessant cleaning stopped to give his attention back to Dream

Sapnap gave a somewhat loud laugh at that, as if it was the funniest thing he'd heard. "Hitting it off? Please, you think  _ that's _ hitting it off?" He questioned, before looking around and smiling when he saw the ovens. He poitned at Sarah and John. They stood side by side, staring deep into one another's eyes as they spoke, their voices inaudible from here. Bright blushes covered their cheeks, each laughing at something that probably wasn't even that funny.  _ "That's _ what hitting it off looks like, idiot. And maybe he's questioning- that doesn't change that you both  _ very _ clearly like each other. You don't even have to be anything official, but come on now. You're obviously meant to be more than friends."

"That's what I thought about you," George retorted snappily before backing off with an apologetic groan. He rubbed his temples. 

"Sorry, sorry... but he needs time to "figure things out" and I'm just trying to be a good friend but it's so frustrating. I've spent the past month trying to convince myself I don't like him and now he confesses he likes me? So yeah, we both like each other but what if that stops?" George put his head on the table with another exasperated moan, "It feels like we're so fucking close to something but he needs his time and I respect that, it's just-  _ aghhauhgghhgghhgh _ " The final groan was muffled as George shoved his face further into the cool plastic top.

"God, you're both the densest idiots I've ever met. He almost cried because you picked a new partner, and you're over here having a crisis because he likes you- there are less official things than "boyfriends", you know that right? Besides, it's better to try and risk getting hurt than not try and get hurt for sure." Sapnap rolled his eyes as he spoke, giving a few pats on the back to comfort George through his exasperation.

George let his head fall to one side to look up at Sapnap. "Is it?" He lifted himself off the table, hoping Dream hadn't caught any of that, before continuing, "I... I don't wanna lose him, Sap." The endearing nickname slipped out as his voice quieted.

"Georgie, you're not gonna lose him unless you push him away," Sapnap assured, moving his hand to rest on George's shoulder as he continued, "He cares about you. Even if you hurt him, he's gonna keep coming back. And besides, think about those cliché romcoms you live off of. Nothing's gonna happen unless the main character runs to the airport, professing their love as they beg their love interest to stay- my point is; you gotta take a chance. I know life's not a romcom, and that it won't always work out... but romcoms aren't exactly fantasy either. Give it a shot, you might just like how it turns out."

George scoffed, keeping an even facade as he felt anxiety bubble in his chest. Ever the evasive coward, he questioned, "Did you just call me a romcom protag?"

"You bet I did. You better live up to that, alright? You go get your man- well, after class, since you've still got John to deal with," Sapnap snickered, glancing back at their partner, who seemed so focused on Sarah that he wouldn't even notice if the building was on fire.

George raised an amused eyebrow. "I don't think so... I doubt he would notice if the entire class just walked out the door." It felt better to tease and avert the topic than to dignify Sapnap with a proper response.

"Pfft, that's alright, at least that means if I fuck up the icing I can blame the shitty taste on him leaving the cake in for too long," Sapnap grinned as he spoke, glancing momentarily at the icing. It seemed fine for now... but he didn't have high hopes it'd be fine for much longer.

George rolled his eyes and took the bowl from Sapnap. "Or I can fix this and we can have something edible for later." He glanced over at John, smiling at the way he was stealing all of Sarah's focus. "Or for sharing with Sarah in his case." Although Dream was left looking like a student sitting through the most boring lecture in his life, George felt more at ease without the cute brunette by Dream's side.

"Well, I'm sure Sarah's gonna love your hard work," Sapnap laughed out, sitting on the counter beside George as he observed the baker with interest. Occasionally, he glanced back at Dream, who would have long since fallen asleep had it not been for his phone. Despite the mild guilt that pooled in his stomach, he left his friend over to die of boredom, turning his attention back to the expert at work.

Time passed slowly as George worked the frosting into something light and fluffy. Normally watching the creamy arches form was something that never failed to enrapture him, but now all he could think of was whatever was going to happen after class. Between the mixing and constant glances at Dream, George felt his attention fraying as his nerves built. 

He looked back into the bowl and found the top whisked to chunkiness. He cursed, "Shit." He grabbed a spoon and scooped out the ruined frosting while trying to salvage the rest. 

George didn't bother trying to go back to making the sweet sustenance, instead turning to Sapnap, frantic. The situation felt like the ruined frosting. Overworked and unable to be fixed. 

"I can't do this. What would I even say? " _Whoops sorry,_ " He heard a shuffling noise behind him, probably John coming back with the cakes. He ignored it and kept going, " _I lied about only wanting a friendship with you I'm actually head over heels for you but you probably knew that and I know you said you need time to figure things out but I'd really like to have some more dumb dates with you and maybe having you save my taste-buds with cooking knowledge and yeah this might end really badly but you're worth it, you've always been worth it._ " "" His sarcastic ramble got increasingly less sarcastic and came to a close with a short breath and an expectant look towards Sapnap.

Sapnap took in a sharp inhale, staring past George with a look of dread. For a few moments, he was quiet, before letting out a small,  _ "Oh hey Dream." _

George spun around, staring at Dream in abject horror.

Behind them stood Dream, who looked like he'd just been slapped in the face at the confession he'd just overheard. His mouth opened and closed multiple times as he tried to speak, though nothing came out. 

Finally, Dream took a deep breath, murmuring out, "I'll leave you two to it, then." With that, he walked away rather rapidly, giving a quick excuse to Bad as he left the room. 

His heart raced, filling his ears and distracting him ever so slightly from the panicked and hurt thoughts that swam through his head as he tried to come up with some explanation from what he'd overheard. 

A painful silence filled the air for a few moments, before a spark of hope filled Sapnap's eyes. 

He stared at George with a knowing grin as he asked, "So, you gonna take your airport scene, or are you gonna let him fly away?"

George's look of scathing disbelief bore into Sapnap. Was he really teasing right now? 

"You're a fucking dumbass." Then he was off, chasing after Dream with a pounding heart, the lingering burn of shame from being caught in a confession that somehow had been misunderstood and very little idea of what he'd actually do if he managed to find him. 

_ Stupid, stupid Dream, how did you not get that I was talking about you, idiot?? Or did you and just- _

George immediately shut down that line of thinking, steeling his resolve. Dream liked him. There was no more room for doubt. George liked Dream and  _ fuck _ he wanted to make this work. A little possible heartbreak be damned. 

George would make sure Dream knew his feelings if it was the last thing he did. 

This was easier said than down however as George rounded corner after corner of the stupid community center's confusing layout without a single dirty blond hair in sight. Before he knew it, he was hopelessly lost. 

Panic consumed him once more as he considered Dream leaving without George being able to explain everything to him. He picked up his pace as he turned to go down yet another hallway and smashed into a solid object and went crashing down to the floor in a heap.

A weak oof came from Dream as something crashed into him rather suddenly, followed by a panicked apology as the person fell to the floor. 

As soon as he realized who it was, he let out a quiet "Oh fuck," as he offered his hand out to the boy. No matter how much he wanted to avoid this confrontation, he couldn't leave George on the ground without so much as an apology or an offer to help.

George stilled as he realized who he had just crashed into.  _ Phenomenal opener, George, _ he scolded himself. He accepted the hand in silence and stood up, brushing himself off. 

George opened his mouth and before he could stop the words from leaving, boldly declared, "Dream, you are an idiot. A  _ colossal _ idiot."

Dream blinked slowly as he processed what had just been said to him, expecting something- no,  _ anything _ but that. All he could manage in response was a tiny and rather uncertain, "What?"

George grabbed Dream's hand tentatively before moving closer to wrap him in a hug. "You're a head empty, no thoughts ever, idiot, Dream, because I was talking about  _ you _ ." He stepped back with a light flush to his cheeks and un-confident look. "So I'll get to the point and say the part that matters again, but uh... you're worth it, you've always been worth it." He shuffled in place and gathered his courage, then went on. "I don't want to be friends, Dream. I want something more. I-I think we should give this a shot, whatever  _ this _ is."

Dream stepped towards George, fondly cupping the boy's cheek as he murmured, "But what if I hurt you? What if I'm wrong about my sexuality, or even just- my usual, dumb self, and I mess this up? I don't wanna lose this."

George smiled and placed a hand over Dream's, letting the calming touch pacify his nerves. He felt more confident as he spoke, "You won't lose this. I'll be patient, we'll go slow and no matter what happens, I..." he took a shaky breath, willing himself to continue. "I won't run. I trust you, and even if you figure out this isn't for you, I'll stick around and you, me and Sapnap can go be bros and start streaming Minecraft or something stupid like that. Point is, no matter what happens, I'll be here and we're in this together." He ran his fingers soothingly along the back of Dream's hand and leaned into his palm. "And for what it's worth, this is a pretty good start."

Dream's worried frown morphed into a gentle smile as he listened to the words of assurance, letting out a happy hum as he let his thoughts wander to the endless possibilities. However, one possibility stood out from the rest, calling to him far too loudly to ignore. So, in a quiet, unconfident voice, he requested, "Can I kiss you?"

George gave a small laugh and whispered, "You dummy." And without another verbal answer, he pulled Dream down and into a chaste kiss that barely lasted two seconds before he was pulling away. 

The kiss was phenomenal, satisfying almost every single moment George had spotted Dream's perfect lips and wanted to lay a kiss on the corner of them. Almost. And that was why he retreated before letting himself sink into the Dream's arms and wrap his own arms behind his neck, clutching on to him like he never wanted the moment to end. He knew that if he lingered for even a moment longer he'd just want more.

Dream held the boy tightly, resting his head on the top of George's and giving a content sigh. As much as he wanted to stay like that forever, holding the boy in his arms for the rest of their lives, an undeniable thought popped into his head. "What do you say we ditch class and go back to my place? Pretty sure Patches deserves her dose of George cuddles, and that couch is calling my name," 

Dream suggested, grinning down at the other as he pulled away slightly. He paused for a moment before adding, "You know what? Maybe we could even throw on a cheesy romcom."

"Ditch class? What a delinquent." George teased. "Let's go." He reluctantly pulled himself further out of Dream's arms and walked towards where he hoped he'd find a door. "I'm pretty sure I owe Patches an apology petting session," 

He tugged Dream's hand into his own as he caught up. George gave a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes. "And I  _ guess _ we could watch a romcom, if you insist."

"George, George, George-" Dream rapidly repeated, giving an excited squeeze to the boy's hand to grab his attention. Once obtained, he let out a chuckle, holding up his hand an extending his pointer finger as he said, "Never have I ever willingly watched a romcom, until you came along."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you've reached the end! Thank you so much for reading this far and stay tuned for the fluffy epilogue! Juno and I are working on a Dreamnap work next, but this fic holds a place near and dear in our heart so let us know if you wanna see drabbles and spin-offs in this same universe. Thanks again for reading and I hope you all enjoyed :)


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end is bittersweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just kidding! The end is nothing but sweet :D

George screamed, probably shattering eardrums and windows alike as he ran. He knew that if he paused for even a moment to look behind him, he’d see a familiar white and neon yellow flash before he perished. 

Stupid little pissbaby. 

"Dream, leave me ALONE!!!" His keyboard clacked as he ran for dear life, ignoring his chat giving him suggestions and Sapnap's mocking laughter in the background.

"C'MERE GEORGE!" Dream yelled in response, a maniacal laugh following as he chased after the poor boy, axe in hand. As he lined up the final crit, he exclaimed, "Heeeere's Dreamie!" Although the reference didn't quite make sense to some of their viewers, he coughed out a hard wheeze, tears coming to his eyes as the death message appeared in chat.

George stared at his own screen reading the cheerful "You Died!" He groaned and ran a hand up his face but couldn't help but crack a smile at Dream's words. He kept the smile buried beneath his arm away from chat's curious and watchful gaze. He clicked respawn, running back over to them. "You're both assholes, I literally did nothing." 

He punched Dream with his bare fist, fully aware Dream could simply end him in two clean sweeps of his axe. He wouldn’t. "Now give me my stuff back," George demanded.

With an over dramatic gasp and a poorly repressed snicker, Sapnap exclaimed, "Language!" This earned a chuckle from Dream, who ignored the punches as he threw the items back to George, sneakily saving a gapple and a pearl or two for himself.

"I don't watch my language for jerks, Sappitus. I didn't exactly see you helping me out either." George rolled his eyes with a smirk as he put back on his netherite armor. "Besides, who are you, Bad?" 

  
  
  


He didn’t wait to hear Sapnap’s excuse. Instead, he let his gaze drift to his desktop clock, his eyes widening when he caught the time. "Oh shit, I've gotta go. I have a date!" 

Sapnap let out an exasperated snort and said goodbye before disconnecting. 

George watched with sadistic satisfaction as chat zoomed by, crying out and claiming that dnf was deadー _ oh, if only they knew _ , asking who was the lucky girl and other things along those lines. "I'm not telling," he giggled. 

"I'll just raid Quackity and let him answer all your questions, not that he knows any more than you guys. Make sure to ask him for his hair reveal nonstop, he'll love that." 

He gave a few small waves to the camera before clicking raid. He kept continuously waving and checking to see if the stream had ended until he was absolutely certain it was over. 

George slipped out of the small soundproof room and walked down the hallway.

From a different soundproof room down the hallway emerged Dream, who was laughing softly as he held his phone, typing a quick message. Quackity's voice could be vaguely heard from the device, saying something about hair. 

His eyes flickered up, catching sight of George. With a widening smile, he sent one last message before closing the app and turning off his phone, walking towards the boy with a happy, "Hi!"

George gave Dream an easy smile accompanied by a small wave. "Hey there," he greeted. He leaned against the frame of the door as his grin turned teasing. "I'd love to stick around and talk but unfortunately I have a date to get to. See you later?"

"Is that so?" Dream questioned, grinning down at the other. He tilted his head, chuckling softly as he continued, "Do I know this lucky boy?"

George gave a thoughtful hum, placing a hand on his chin in contemplation. He raised his eyebrows at Dream. "I don't know," he left from his leaning position on the door to fix Dream with a teasing look. "Have you taken a look in the mirror recently?"

"Nah," Dream shrugged, walking towards George as he spoke. He reached forward, gently grabbing the boy's chin as he explained, "I've been too busy looking at you." With that, he placed a quick kiss on George's forehead, before letting go and stepping away. Moving towards the living room, he glanced back to check if George was following.

George let out a mix between an exasperated and endearing huff as he made his way downstairs by Dream's side, a light pink dusting across his cheeks the only indication that George had heard him. Lacing his fingers in between the other's, George laid his head on Dream's shoulder with a wistful sigh and looked up. 

"Can we just skip making something fancy and just... watch a movie or- or something?" He hoped his faltering words hid his thinly veiled intentions to have Dream in his arms again. 

Despite everything they'd been through, and even now, with this semblance of stability in their lives, George couldn't put his needs into words. Finally being together with Dream was, well, a dream and left George with a sense that something bad was to come, though it never did. 

It was pure bliss and every freely given cuddle and casual touch around the house fueled George for days. But he couldn't say that, always dancing around the topic or trying to convey his want in some other way. 

His heart melted every single time Dream somehow knew exactly what he meant. Of course, there were the days that Dream didn't pick up on it, leaving him confused as George isolated himself in an irate silence, until George inevitably came out from where he was hiding with an ashamed apology and they'd drop it. 

Those days were few and far between and he was hoping today wasn’t one of them.

"Sure!" Dream chirped, a knowing shimmer in his eyes. Pulling out his phone, he flashed a fond smile down at George. "I'll just order us some food, and we can chill on the couch for a while." As he scrolled through his apps to find one to order on, he gave a small squeeze to the warm hand he held so dearly. 

With a curious head tilt, he peered over at George, adding, “We could even watch some dumb romance movie if you want. In all honesty, I think they’re starting to grow on me. Can’t believe you ruined my taste like this.” Not giving George a chance to defend the atrocity known as romcoms or tease him for his newfound fondness for the genre, he leaned down, placing a quick kiss on his lips. 

George gave him an unimpressed smirk, intent on refuting the claim. “If anything,  _ Dreamie, _ ” he commented airily, “I think I’ve made you more cultured.” He let out a heavy dramatic sigh. “It’s not your fault that you had zero sense of a good movie before you met me.” He seemed to ponder his own words for a moment before he sniggered, “Actually, no. It was definitely your fault. I  _ still _ can’t believe you had never seen  _ The Shining _ .”

With a light laugh, Dream shook his head, arguing, "Pretty sure I would've been more than fine never seeing  _ The Shining _ , actually." Knowing their dispute about what George considered “the intricacies of cinema” and what Dream considered “actual satan spawn” could go on forever, he turned his attention back to the app. Giving another small squeeze to George's hand, he questioned, “Does pizza sound good?”

George made a happy noise of agreement deep in his throat. He ignored their differences; their vastly different tastes. Afterall, it all really boiled down to how that simply made the other more intriguing, and as their bodies slotted together cozy with deep, calm breathing on that couch that had seen so much, tiny differences faded into the background. 

A background that was insignificant as Patches curled up on top of them and purred in their ears as they simply relished in the company. Some nights the movie would go forgotten entirely in favor of Dream whispering sweet nothings into his ear, trying to make George go red in the face and succeeding after a few well placed compliments. 

Other nights George would feel braver, letting their cuddling lead into kissing until he left Dream breathless and flushed out beneath him. George wasn’t the best with words, but he was definitely the best with his tongue.

And some nights, truly George’s favorite nights, they would actively watch, maybe cook, sometimes bake as they laughed and teased both the movie and one another as the film drew emotions from them with all of its cinematographic magic. 

The hand cupped in his own felt warming and reassuring against his skin. Staring into Dream’s warm, honey dipped golden eyes he saw care, affection, and what he’d been striving for after all this time;  _ love. _

This was all he needed. 

"It sounds perfect."

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a kudos and comment if you like how it's looking and can't wait to see more. Nothing makes us happier as authors than to see how you guys like it, if you enjoyed and what you wanna see more of! Have a lovely day folks and happy reading :]
> 
> Also!! Feel free to come join us on the MCYT AO3 Discord! Whether you be an author looking for place to brainstorm and share your work, or a reader looking for a place to find smaller authors and great works by all sorts of people, there's a great community and server events for anyone to join :) https://discord.gg/Ea5tVA3wUF


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